Thorns on the Rose
by Firevibe and Figment
Summary: Years before canon begins...Delaney is an unfortunate girl, even more so when she gets hit by a car. But then she is sent back to ME, and falls into the body of a teenage Legolas's friend. But if Della thought she had problems, she never reckoned on war.
1. In Which We Meet Poor Della

Thorns on the Rose  
  
By: Firevibe the Red  
  
Summary: Zelda fan Delaney Freeholder is severely out of place. Having won a scholarship to an uppity private school in Manhattan, though extremely difficult, hasn't made her life easier. Because she comes from a one-parent family, and a poor one at that, Delaney is an easy target for her classmates. When she gets hit by a car, she figures she will die, and doesn't feel any particular remorse. But she doesn't die. She wakes up...but not in her body. Who is Rosellyn Stillwater? And what happened to Delaney, and 21st century New York?  
  
Chapter 1-In Which We Meet Poor Della  
  
Delaney blinked blearily at her alarm clock, wishing the stupid thing had never been invented. Whoever decided that high schoolers needed to get to school at 7 in the morning should be shot, she thought, and rolled out of bed onto the floor, dragging herself to her dresser and throwing out the first clothes that came to reach. Trying to stay awake, she pulled on whatever she had pulled out and examined herself in the mirror to make sure it wasn't too horrible.  
  
She had actually done well this morning; blue jeans and a forest green T-shirt that read Elves Exist! in lighter green with a picture of Link from her Zelda video game on it. Okay, so maybe Link wasn't technically an elf, but he the pointy ear thing going on. She loved this shirt, having made it herself. She ironed on all the designs, and even sewed in the crucial parts.  
  
She brushed her teeth (she was never much of a breakfast eater, even less so at 6 in the morning) and pulled a comb through her short brown hair. Even half asleep, she grimaced at the length. Try as she might, her hair would never grow past her cheeks. It just had some sort of genetic block. Sure, strangers would admire its sheen, but it was no good unless it was long, in her opinion.  
  
Having spruced herself up and woken herself up, she searched her room, shoving runaway papers and binders into her backpack. The alarm, set on the radio, was still going, her favorite music station highlighting old music. Why old music? It was a pop rock station! But she listened on, too lazy to go and change it. Suddenly a tune came on that she halfway recognized. It was "Homeward Bound" by Simon and Whatshisface. Garfield? No, hang on…Garfunkle. Some weird name like that. Her mother would always sing this non-stop on trips, which made driving with her mad fun.  
  
Still, she stopped and listened, thinking it sounded a lot better when these guys sang it. One line caught her interest. "…and still my words come back to me/ in shades of mediocrity/ in emptiness and harmony/ I need someone to comfort me…" Mediocrity? She wasn't sure what that meant, but she liked the sound of it. They sure had a better vocabulary back in the sixties.  
  
She checked the clock. Still time to battle the boss! She ran to the family room, flung herself down on the beanbag chair, hit on the T.V., and turned on the N64 with the Zelda game that had permanently moved in there. Zelda was her life. She had beaten the first one, but the second one had her stumped. She skillfully maneuvered Link through the virtual obstacle course, diving, gathering jewels, morphing, battling… she sunk into the familiar feeling of well-being. She never felt so peaceful, or that she had control over something, than when she was playing her video game. This was her element, the Mecca of her real and imaginary world. She lived, ate, breathed and slept Zelda. It was a satisfying existance, and preferable to her own. When her mother called, she saved her game, turned it off, tugged on her backpack and trudged downstairs.  
  
"Della? Are you almost ready? You're going to have to leave soon if you want to get there on time!" She fished through the refrigerator for her lunch.  
  
"I know, Mom, I just need my lunch…" she found it and yanked it out, pushing the door shut with her foot. She was halfway out the door when she remembered the song. And the word. Mediocrity. Her mother had never sung that verse in the car. "Mom?"  
  
"Yes, dear?"  
  
"What's the word mediocrity mean?"  
  
"Mediocrity? Why do you ask?"  
  
"I heard it somewhere. Do you know what it means?"  
  
"Yes, I know. It's a form of the word 'mediocre' which means normal, average, nothing out of the ordinary. Mediocrity would mean that something is depressingly normal. Border lining on boring, but not quite that strong. Does that answer your question, honey?" Hm. Boring. Nice.  
  
"Yeah, I think so. Thanks. Bye, I love you."  
  
"I love you too, Della." She shut the door and started walking to school.  
  
If any word was to describe her life, this new word "mediocre" pretty much summed things up. She'd been going through the same routine since school started, not changing it one iota. You could set your watch by it. Wake up, brush teeth, brush hair, play Zelda, go downstairs, grab her lunch box, and she was on her way. Her hair was always the same, depressingly short, as was her height. Depressingly short. Her classmate's voices were starting to richen, and become high and sweet. Hers was still thin and childish, so low that if you heard her talk you would have thought a boy had snuck on campus, as the girls constantly teased her about.  
  
And then there was school. School. A whole different rat's nest, yet equally mediocre as herself. No one simply walked to Mrs. Johnette Bigglesworth's Academy For Young Ladies. They had their drivers escort them in their expensive cars, Jaguars, BMW's, limousines, Mustang convertibles. Their own car, and they wouldn't be driving for two more years! Yet their car nonetheless. In some cases, one of their cars. Or the boys at the neighboring campus, Mr. John Bigglesworth's Academy For Young Men, they would rev up their Harley's, their motor scooters that they had bought purely on whim with their $100 a week allowances, or begged off their parents when the parents were feeling generous that day. No one walked, except for Delaney Freeholder.  
  
Delaney, with her low voice, her banged-up tennies, her short hair and stature, Delaney, the fat one, with her chump-change allowance of a mere $5. Five dollars! They would laugh, not bothering to lower their voices. Why, they could go home and find that much under their outrageously expensive sofa cushions!  
  
Yet their feeling toward her never contained a shred of pity. It was hate, pure and unrefined. Freeholder, why was she there? She didn't belong. Until she had her own cell phone, broker, and limo, she would never belong. Freeholder, with her perfect grades, Freeholder the computer geek. Why did she even bother coming? Why indeed, she thought. Certainly, she had one of the highest grade point averages in the school for a freshman, but brains wasn't what earned you acceptance in Johnette Bigglesworth, not if you weren't rich. The people admitted under scholarships usually were driven away in about a month.  
  
Even hacking into AIM didn't gain her exceptance, even though it was interesting, reading her classmates' messages to each other. And their e-mails, when she eventually slipped her system around the e-mail carriers. Put Della in front of the computer, and something amazing would undoubtedly happen. Not that the other girls cared, because all the poor kids, the scholarship ones, the kids had been chased away by the other girls' cruelty. All except Delaney. She had been their half a year, and if she thought that it would lessen their dislike for her, she wouldn't have made it under the scholarship program because she would have been extremely slow.  
  
"Hey! Freeholder! Can I pull you over for a moment?" She sighed, recognizing the snotty tone of voice. With a sinking feeling of gloom, she continued walking, refusing to let Eloise Mollier get the chance to attack her. She had enough of that in class; did she really need it before school, too? "Freeholder! Gawd, don't you even remember your own name? It's certainly weird enough to." And this coming from a girl whose name was Eloise Gweynich Mollier! Oh, the replies she wanted to give at that moment. But all she did was slightly pick up her pace. She had to let the moment pass, as much as she hated to. Mollier never worked out, she wouldn't give chase for much longer. It was only genetics, after all, that blessed her with a slim waist and perfect thighs, not labor on her part.  
  
It wasn't fair; Mollier could eat butter and lose weight. What did Delaney have to do? Yoga, excersize class, kickboxing and rabbit food for genetic obesity, all for a ten pound loss after two months. Where was the justice?  
  
"Freeholder! Look out!" she shrieked. What was it now? Was it a joke, or was she actually being warned? She had never heard that tone in Mollier's voice before… She whirled around, just in time to see the shiny new Audi right before it slammed into her, knocking her into the air to hit the ground with a heavy thud. She passed in and out of consciousness. Just let me die, God, she pleaded, if you have any shred of humanity, you'll let me die… her shirt, her pride-and-joy shirt, was streaked with fast-spreading blood. I'm going to die! She thought. The last thing she could remember thinking was glancing down at the picture of Link. Elves never die. If I was an Elf, I wouldn't die… 


	2. A Deathvision

A/N: This is purely the work of me, Firevibe; Figment had nothing to do with it. Flame me, but don't hate her. *Disclaimer* I have nothing of value, including the wonderful characters of J.R.R.  
  
This is my solo attempt, as mentioned before. This is my first, but unlike some people I can take critisism. And, unlike most, I use spell-check. Keep in mind that I realize parts are not correct to the canon, and I claim some artistic license. That being said, read on!  
  
Sinking into blackness...sharp pain in her chest and left arm... Elves...Elves never die...too intense...too much pain...heart beat slowly stopping...breathing a laborious effort...too much blood being lost...Elves never die...Elves never die...if I was an Elf...if I was an Elf...let me die...  
  
The man was obviously an inferior in the hierarchy of this army, but he was pulled up in front of the warlord and was scared silly about it. He shifted his weight constantly, wondering if he would get out of this tent with all his limbs remaining. The war-lord was notorious for lopping off an ear or an arm if something displeased him. The guard behind him prodded him none too gently with his spear. He winced as he felt steel slice through his shirt and bury about a fourth of an inch in his back, then drew out.  
  
"Get on with it, forager. Tell the war-lord your story." Would he be able to discern the truth? No, it was impossible. He was the only man alive from that botched mission. Nervously, his voice shaking, he began to speak.  
  
"Master, the raiding party has come to grief..." The warlord was a powerfully built man, and he looked like a child's nightmare: cruel, dark eyes, formidably muscled, a deep voice like the firey pits of a volcano. The forager was terrified.  
  
"I know that, fool. Get on with it!" He hurriedly did as he was bid.  
  
"Through some black sorcery, the Elves knew we were coming today, and they were lying in wait for us as we passed through. There was an army of them, my lord! They jumped on us without so much as a turned leaf to tell that they were there. We fought as best we could, but the battle was hopeless. I alone escaped to tell the tale, sir." The warlord smiled as if he were truly amused.  
  
"An army, you say?" He nodded until his neck hurt.  
  
"At least, sire. Three score and a half, unless I miss my guess. The party was no more than a score and five." The warlord nodded sympathetically.  
  
"Twenty and four of my men slain by Elven warriors!" his voice hardened suddenly, if iron could be said to harden. "Tell me true, forager, which gave you the greater challenge, the dying girl or the short one in the tree?" The scout's eyes widened with shock. There was no way he could have known...with a start of shock, he realized that there was a man standing next to him. How long had he been there? He hadn't heard a single sound...  
  
"Met my spy, then? I have him follow all my parties to take care of anyone who tries to desert. He tells me all." Panic began to set in. This could not bode well for him. He was right, dead right, when he saw the contempt warring with rage on the war-lord's face.  
  
"Two Elfin girls," he spat, "And they vanquished the lot of you." Firelight flickered in the scout's eyes, making the naked fear in them even more desperate.  
  
"We killed one!" he drew his knife, shaking off the guard that sensed danger to the war-lord. "This is Elf blood on my blade, I tell you true." If he thought this would help his case, he was wildly mistaken.  
  
"Twenty and five men jump on one preteen Elven girl. By my fathers! Your bravery must know no bounds! What proof do you have that she's dead? Did you stand over her until she breathed her last? Do you have a head to show me? Did you strike the fatal blow and watch her life-blood spill on the ground? I want proof, forager!" How could he have stayed? That other girl might have been short, for an Elf, but she fought like a demon, and shot her bow even better. Ten men dead before they could pinpoint her! And then she jumped on Metwick and stabbed out like crazy. As he thought of it, the almost-fatal slash on his chest throbbed in memory. Besides, they got the taller one at least six blows; even to an immortal Elf, that number would be fatal. The tall one was dead, and her friend had to be wounded. There was no pity in the man; the Elf girls couldn't have been more than thirteen or so by human standards, but if they were stupid enough to fight them, they deserved to die. And die they did. He waved the blood-stained knife in the flickering light.  
  
"I have the blood on my blade!" As soon as he said that, he knew it was not enough. The warlord smiled and beckoned to his guards.  
  
"My sword, if you please." He had no room for blundering in his army. 


	3. Who's This Rosellyn Girl?

Rosellyn may turn a bit Mary-Sue-ish...I apologize if you find it to be so. Maybe I should call in the livejournal Mary Sue squad... Read on!  
  
*Disclaimer* I own absolutely nothing. Not even the clothes on my back. They're my sister's. You want to sue me, sue her.  
  
Light...blinding light. She was dead! Or was she? What was that thudding in her ears? It was her heartbeat! Heartbeat? But...but that meant...that meant she was alive! If she'd had the strength, she would have wept. She was so close to being free! She felt different;was that normal? She couldn't say. Would life be so cruel? Maybe she should open her eyes, see what was going on. Crud. Opening her eyes did nothing. Just blurry shapes. Slowly, they started to focus as she knew they would. Standard rule for all fantasy games/books/RPGs; if you survive the accident, your eyes will eventually focus. Worked every time. Fantasy wasn't so different from real life, sometimes. Unless you were blinded, but you'd definitely know if that were to occur.  
  
"She's waking up! She's going to be okay!"  
  
"Well, we don't know if she's going to be able to use that arm again."  
  
"What? That's not good! She's the best knife we got for her age, and the best archer this side of-"  
  
"You know, you're too modest. You're the best archer we got, hands down."  
  
"I know, but it would sound like bragging if I pointed that out." Talking. What were they talking about? They certainly weren't talking about her. Archery? Knives? What was that all about? She was obviously hearing things. She'd never touched bows and arrows before, and the sharpest knife she'd ever used was a butter knife. But, wait. Elves were archers... then she knew what was going on. She was dreaming. The last things she thought of were Elves, so she was dreaming about Elves. No, this didn't feel like her dreams; she didn't feel like herself, she felt different, like she was a different person. This was too real. Rule number two in fantasy: when they dream during an injury, the pain is never there. It fades. Isn't that how it always works? Pain fades when you're unconscious. If she was dreaming, she would be in control. And if she was in control, she most definitely would not be in pain. But she was. Fiery pain in her arm and chest, as though someone was butchering her with red-hot knives.  
  
"Ow..." she whimpered. What a brilliant thing to say. But that seemed all the word her lips could form. The talking stopped as if cut by a knife. Slowly her vocabulary expanded. "Pain...hurt...make it...stop, please...ow...ow...what happened? Where am I?" The talk started on again as if someone had just reinserted the plug on the television set, causing her splitting headache to get worse. But if someone could tell her what was going on, it was worth a little pain. A little pain? Who was she kidding?  
  
"You're okay! How do you feel?" What kind of idiot question was that? She was just hit by a car! Her vision eased into focus. What she saw nearly made her pass out again. She didn't know these people! She thought she didn't know these people. Names went through her head, and she could put name with face. Tracie, Forest, Legolas, Linka and Awaren Humanblood. She was sure she had never seen these people before...yet she knew them as if she had known them since birth.  
  
"Rosalin, are you okay?" Who was Rosalin? It was her. No, she was Delaney! Yet, part of her knew she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and her friends were Traceheart Forestwood, her twin brother Tracehelm Forestwood, and Legolas Greenleaf. Tracie, Forest, and Legolas. Linka and Awaren Humanblood, the leaders of their people, named because Awaren's mother had been human. Legolas admitted that there was no shame in that; he himself had a human mother somewhere in his line. Of course, Legolas also claimed that he had a prince in his family somewhere...how did she know that? She didn't know anyone named Legolas! Delaney didn't. But Rosellyn did. Two sets of memories battled themselves in her mind. In one, she was Delaney Freeholder, a 14 year-old girl who lived in the United States. She remembered playing the guitar for the first time, yoga classes, or the first day at Johnette Bigglesworth. In the other, she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and she was 1,472 years old, living in the forest of Mirkwood. In these memories she could remember her mother lying on the bed, dying of a mortal wound taken on the battle field, holding a bow for the first time, twirling knives skillfully for a show at one of the parties for Linka's 7,000th birthday celebration. She was--there was no other way to avoid it now--she was an Elf. Hesitantly, she tried to raise her hands. The right one went up without complaint; the left one refused to rise. When she strained, it sent a dizzying amount of pain. Her right arm was pushed gently down by the kindly looking older man. Awaren, the part of her named Rosellyn insisted.  
  
"Rosellyn, you mustn't try to raise your arms, especially your left. Do you remember anything of what happened?"  
  
"Hit...by..." The details slipped through her pain-numbed mind like water cupped in her hand. Finally she gave up. Maybe if someone else explained it, she would understand. "No. Tell me." A girl, a very pretty girl looked on, lovely eyes filled with worry.  
  
"She doesn't remember? But, what if-" Awaren cut her off gently.  
  
"That's quite normal after an injury of this magnitude, Tracie. She'll remember, in time. Now then, what's your name?" Delaney! Her mind screamed, but her traitor mouth replied:  
  
"Rosellyn Stillwater."  
  
"Do you know who I am?" No, she certainly did not! But again, her voice paid no heed. It was like someone else was speaking for her!  
  
"Awaren Humanblood. That's Linka, that's Tracie, that's Forest, and that's Legolas..." her voice trailed off as she set her eyes on the last person she'd named. Legolas Greenleaf. She turned the name over in her mind. Elves, true Elves, not Keebler, Delaney knew, were supposed to be more beautiful than any human, and from the faces surrounding her she knew that it was true, but Legolas...he was handsome even for an Elf. He had pale fair hair that fell down his back, but it didn't look feminine on him. If anything, it was exactly the opposite. He was tall, slim like the blade of a sharp knife is slim, and carried himself as though he had more energy than he knew what to do with, tempered by a cat-like grace and a hunter's patience. His eyes were dark, so dark you could barely make out the pupils, and when he fixed you with an intense stare, like he did with her, it gave you shivers. Luckily for her, the stare held no malice, only worry and concentration. Rosellyn was hopelessly in love with Legolas; Delaney decided that she was too.  
  
"Very good. That's important that you remember names and faces. Now then, I will fill you in about what happened to you, because it is vital that you know and remember. If you remember at any time during this retelling, do not hesitate to tell me. All right?" Yes, she thought, just get on with it. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I know what's going on! "Now then, I believe you and Tracie were out hunting, correct, Tracie?" If there was ever a man who took a sea voyage to step around a rock on the beach, Awaren Humanblood was it. "Tracie was up in a tree when this all took place, so maybe she will add in details I missed when you are alone after your recovery. It seems that a raiding party from the Riders of Rohan stumbled into you. Do you remember who the Riders are?" Strangely, she did. The Riders were a faction of men from a country nearby, Rohan, that sought to take over the forest, and had been pushing attempts for the past year or so. They had skipped over Lorién, even though it was closer, probably because of the Lady Galadriel, and moved right on to Mirkwood. Mirkwood? What? And who the heck was Lady Galadriel? But, somehow, she nodded and he continued. "According to Tracie, you handled yourself admirably. You lured them away from the tree she was perched in and attempted to lead them away from Wanderer's Glade. Oh, Tracie, you'll have to take over here, I'm afraid..." The girl he named as Tracie had odd coloring for an Elf of Mirkwood. She had vibrantly red hair, and enormous hazel eyes. Short, for an elf, maybe an average sized human in stature, boyishly slim, with a sweet and open face.  
  
"You were so brave, Rose. You killed a few with Trustworthy when they attacked you and even when you were down you kicked anyone who came near Diamondsong. But, yeah, you tried to out run them, but a stray arrow hit you in the arm. The first few runners pushed you down and tried to stab you in the heart but you rolled away so they didn't go too deep, but they went deep enough, I was afraid...well, you were on the ground, lashing out with your knives when I got over my shock and realized I needed to help you. I shot arrows into them until they realized what was happening. Then they got around the base of the tree. I jumped on one and got the rest with Steelsings." She shrugged. "All except one. He got away. In truth I let him, so he could tell his master how a whole band was vanquished by two Elf-girls. There must have been thirty at least! No, I'm serious! Then when I saw you, and how badly you were hurt, I screamed for help until Antiphony came. You remember Anti, don't you? The woman who would always give us a sweet when we were little?" She remembered; Antiphony was a bewitchingly beautiful young woman. Young, in Elfin terms; only a mere 2,573 years. This was too weird. How could she remember both lives? Was Delaney's mind put in this body? The injuries were exactly the same as hers, if the methods they came by were admittedly a bit different. Her mind was reeling from what Tracie told her. She killed someone? She never harmed anyone in her life, not even Mollier! It was impossible. Impossible to Delaney, that is. Two lives inside one mind; it was insane. It was going to drive her insane. This couldn't be happening...Forest looked at her with concern.  
  
"She doesn't look good. She looks like she's going to faint again."  
  
"I think we've told her too much, too soon. You have a valid concern, Forest." Awaren got up and started to mix something, his back turned to her. She couldn't hide her curiosity. Legolas, heart-meltingly handsome Legolas, caught her look and grinned, causing her heart to flop.  
  
"Don't ask, Rose. You don't want to know what's in that." She nodded as he came back with a cup of some foul smelling potion. She wrinkled her nose, but swallowed anyway. To her surprise, it actually tasted pleasant. As soon as the cup was empty, she felt pleasingly drowsy, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. She suspected all along that it was a sleeping potion, but instead of fighting, she decided that sleep was welcome after all. 


	4. Rosellyn's World

*Disclaimer* I am dirt poor. If you sue me, all you will get is a handful of dirt. Lovely for daisies, though...  
  
Chapter 4- Rosellyn's World  
  
When she woke up, she felt refreshed and a lot calmer. Having two lives in her head was still bothering her, but Rosellyn was taking over, and she was more excepting of the out-of-the-ordinary than Delaney was. Soon, Delaney didn't have any voice. Rosellyn was completely in control of her mind, and the strange memories only bothered her occasionally. Legolas and Tracie were standing by her bed, and seemed overjoyed to see her awake.  
  
"Are you feeling any better?"  
  
"Immensely," she admitted. Should she tell them about the strange memories? About the girl with the other set of memories? Delaney? No, not in front of Legolas. She didn't know what she would do if he thought she was going insane. Tracie looked relieved.  
  
"That's good. How does your arm feel? Think you'll be able to twirl steel again?" She smiled, and flexed the fingers in her right hand with a practiced, liquid motion as though her mother's knife, Diamondsong, was secured in her palm.  
  
"I'll manage. If not with both hands again, I still got one."  
  
"Aw, but what about archery? You need two hands for that, and if you can't bend a bow, I'll have no competition. That's no fun." complained Legolas. She grinned wryly.  
  
"You flatter me. I was never competition to you. You can out shoot anyone in Mirkwood, and you know it." That famous grin came over his face that said he did know.  
  
"You're close, okay? You know it, I know it, Awaren knows it. Tracie knows it but it would be like pulling teeth to get her to say it." Tracie fixed him with a you-must-be-joking,-I'm-going-to-kill-you look.  
  
"You better not be pulling out any teeth. I'm supposed to sing tomorrow at the Dawn Praises." He fixed her with his grin; you could almost see what was going on in her mind. Rosellyn was not by any means the only Elf who was taken with Legolas.  
  
"Well, there's one thing you can beat me in. My voice sounds like a stepped-on frog. And that's insulting the frog. And the boot when it comes down to it." Tracie and Rosellyn knew when to stop; Legolas had a good tenor voice, and Tracie's twin brother, Forest, had an excellent bass voice. Legolas and Forest had been asked countless times to sing during the Praises. When Tracie joined her soprano voice with them, they were unequaled. Rosellyn was the only one among them that couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Legolas extended his hand. "Here, lets see if you can get up." She excepted, priding herself on being able to hide what holding his hand did to her. With a gentle heave (unlike most Elves his age, Legolas was more than aware of his own strength.), he pulled her on her feet. She sucked in her breath against the increase of pain in her chest. When she stood up straight, it lessened a little bit. Tracie and Legolas looked on worriedly.  
  
"So...how is it? Do you feel okay?" She smiled.  
  
"Well, you know how the teachers are always on our case about posture?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, all they have to do is stab them in the chest. If I bend over even a little bit it hurts like all get out." They laughed, real, relieved laughter. It was good to know she still had her humor. Even if all deserted her, she would still be able to make a crack about it. Not a wonderful talent, but it would do. An insisting push at the back of her mind, this girl Delaney, wanted to see what she looked like. "Is there a mirror around here?" Tracie pointed to a vanity, where Awaren had mixed the sleeping draught. She hobbled over, waving away offers of help from her friends, even if she did want Legolas's arm around her. She gazed at her reflection, and with a surge of mental strength, Delaney took over her mind.  
  
Delaney was astounded. Rosellyn was...beautiful. Her face-it was her face!-but different. She couldn't point out anything exactly that had been altered, but on the whole, the entire effect was...stunning. Perhaps the lack of acne. Her hair, it was the exact shade and sheen of her hair, but it was long, hanging disheveled down her back. And if this wasn't delight enough, her eyes weren't a dull, boring green anymore, but a fiery shade of emerald. Rosellyn wasn't short, or fat like she, Delaney was. It was the opposite; Rosellyn was tall and willowy, slender and lovely. And...this was what she'd truly been hoping for. She had pointy ears.  
  
She could feel Rosellyn, fighting for possession of her body again, but Delaney wasn't ready to give it up so soon. Rosellyn was everything Delaney wished that she could be. Tall, graceful, long hair... She wasn't completely sure she wasn't dreaming now. She could feel a nagging sensation as she was wondering if she would ever be able to use the arm again. Delaney took this as that Rosellyn was wondering what the injuries looked like and gazed down at the wounds, checking them out. Her left arm was lightly bound with clean linen bandages, and the pain was only a slight throb, nothing distracting. Her chest was completely swathed in more bandages, so many that a shirt was unnecessary. Gingerly, she touched where the wounds were, and whistled at the number of them.  
  
"Wow, when they set out to kill someone, they really try to do the job right, don't they? What's that, four? Five?"  
  
"Five counting the shallow one by your shoulder, but that's not a direct stab..."  
  
"I won't quibble. Five it is. Where's Trustworthy and Diamondsong?" Again, the weird sensation of this Rosellyn chick speaking through her. Tracie produced two keen-edged Elf knives, one hers and the other the one her mother had given to her on her deathbed. Both were fine knives, but her mother's was the pinnacle of well-made. Ripply bright steel, leather bound grips, the pommel stone of Trustworthy a well-polished blue stone. Trustworthy had designs in the hilt picked out in pinhead-sized rubies; Diamondsong had no pommel, but the hilt was decorated in, what else, diamonds. She flexed her fingers experimentally, gently bending her left arm. No good; she would only use her right. Delaney slid back into the recesses of her mind and allowing Rosellyn to do her stuff.  
  
And do it she did. Easily, almost lazily, the knife flashed in her right hand, the bright steel making shapes in the air, dancing seemingly of its own will. At the end, she tossed it up and watched with satisfaction as it lay there, tip buried in the wooden floor, blade quivering. Forest walked in with an arm load of fresh linen for bandages right as the exhibition ended.  
  
"Are you sure you should be up? What if the wounds re-open?"  
  
"Well, that would be my rotten luck, I guess." She caught the look on Forest's face as she said this and added, "Oh, calm down, Forest. The humans have yet to forge a blade that could lay a decent Elf low. Look at me, I hardly qualify as decent and I'm fine!" Legolas laughed at this remark.  
  
"If you don't qualify as decent, Rose, then I've yet to see a decent Elf! Come on then, Forest, let's go find Awaren if you're so concerned." Forest grudgingly agreed, though not without trying to suggest that she rest here while they went and searched. All he got for an answer was a deserted room.  
  
A/N: Pretty soon, Rosellyn and Delaney (pronounced DEL-uh-nee) will begin to converse with each other. Since italics don't always work, I've devised a little system for it. Whoever is in charge of the body will have their thoughts in between the --. Whoever isn't in charge will have their thoughts in between the ~~. This should make things easier. Read on! 


	5. Unlikeable Revelations

*Disclaimer* I live in a box in an alleyway. So unless you need a refrigerator box, suing me will get you nothing, because I don't own LOTR.  
  
A/N: Read on!  
  
"Where are we? I never thought to ask." Tracie pointed to the window.  
  
"The most posh sick ward in Wanderer's Glade, of course. Do you think we'd allow less?" She grinned, knowing she was in Awaren's vast palace on the lake. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the view, so she went to the window. Sparkling blue water of the lake, ringed with snow-fed waterfalls, the intricate workmanship of Elf houses in the grassy sward on shore, the immense trees, not quite as large as mallorns, but still forbidingly huge, that ringed the entire valley built with more work-of-art houses. An overwhelming sense of wonder was surging from Delaney, who had been laying dormant through this all, so strong that it affected her own feelings.  
  
"This is amazing," she said, Delaney's words in her mouth, like she had never seen it before! She sent Delaney a mental message to back off. She responded by lashing out with something she could only describe as a mental whip. Where did she learn to do that? It hurt! Luckily, her friends didn't see anything amiss.  
  
"Good to be alive, huh?"  
  
"Don't you know it. Were you hurt in the battle? How long was I out?" She suddenly found that she had a hundred questions, and Delaney a hundred more. Oh no, she thought, this is my mind, my body, got it? I'll ask my questions, and you stay out of it. There was no backlash this time; she took that as a good sign.  
  
"Nothing major. A gash on my arm, but it was shallow, only about two inches across. These human blades are pitiful next to our work, you know, awful tempering, always going dull...oh yes, injuries. Well, the gash, a broken toe when I jumped on that guy, and one heck of a splinter when I grabbed some scout's spear before it could find me. Any other time I would complain, but you've been out for a week, and I find it in myself to count myself as lucky." Tracie pulled out her knife, Steelsings, that had been in her family for countless generations and twirled it idly between her fingers as she spoke. "So, should we go on and look for Awaren?"  
  
"No need, no need." He walked up to them and took her hand, checking her pulse. "Are you sure you're up to getting out of bed, Rosellyn? How are you feeling? Dizzy? Your chest wounds, are they hurting? I'm more concerned about those than your arm, even though that's no skinned knee."  
  
"Well, my posture is improving...am I going to be able to spin knives with my left arm? Am I going to be able to at least bend it?"  
  
"Oh, you should have waited for me! I was hoping to run into you. With the proper treatment, your arm should be as good as new. Here, let me see your arm." He drew out a vial from his belt pouch and took a gentle but firm grip right above the wound. He unwrapped the bandages around her arm, and she winced at the wound.  
  
"This is taking the training yard's slight mishaps when some idiot walks in front of someone firing those blunted arrows to a whole different level," observed Forest unhelpfully. Tracie looked sick. She couldn't see Legolas's expression; the angle was wrong. Awaren gently dabbed some of the potion in the vial on the cut. It stung for five seconds or so, then the sensation faded. He stoppered the vial and tucked it into her hand.  
  
"Put this on the arm every morning, and you'll slowly regain flexibility. Not much we can do for the chest wounds except wait...oh, here's a souvenir." He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a tarnished arrow head. "I extracted that from your arm. You'll want to polish it, I suppose. Blood can do funny things to steel, you know." With a smile, he walked off. Forest watched him go with an odd look on his face.  
  
"I never know if he's serious or if he has a sick sense of humor." She rubbed it on some clean bandage and it came away untarnished, wickedly glittering black steel.  
  
"A bit of both, I'd guess. It comes with the job. Should I just throw it into the lake right now or keep it as a...souvenir?" Tracie shook her head so hard her hair went flapping on its ends.  
  
"Do you want to kill the lake? Bury it far from the wood if you don't want it, but I don't trust that black steel is ever completely clean." Legolas's ears perked up at the mention of black steel.  
  
"That's true black steel? Men never use black steel, it's too hard for them to get." Forest gestured at Legolas's sheathed knife.  
  
"What about your knife, then? Black Fury, is it called?" With a fluid motion, Legolas unsheathed it and held it out for examination. While the blade of Rosellyn's knives were both a silver almost bright enough to be called white, Legolas's was made completely out of black steel, darker than pitch, or midnight, with a luster that couldn't be classified. It was neither dull nor the high sheen of obsidian, but something altogether different, and sharp as a razor. It was a knife to be envied among the Elves. She held out the arrow head in the palm of her hand. The two looked exactly the same.  
  
"Yes, that's black steel, but I said Men never use it, because they don't have a friendship with the Dwarves that mine it. If they have enough to be using them on arrow heads, which they will most likely lose, something's wrong."  
  
"I'm sure Awaren knows that, Legolas. If he didn't tell us, it's because he knows we'll figure it out on our own, or he didn't want to panic us."  
  
"Panic? Why would we panic?" Tracie wanted to know. Her twin didn't take this outlook, however, and the color started draining from his face.  
  
"What do you mean, why would we panic? Trace, this is bad. It means that some of the Dwarves have either betrayed us or they're double dealing. Do you know what this could mean?" Tracie scoffed.  
  
"It isn't like there's only one Dwarf tribe that mines black steel..."  
  
"Don't you see, though? No, of course you don't. These younger children today just don't grasp these fine details..." he ducked as his sister took a swipe at him and took off as she chased him down the hall, screaming as she went:  
  
"It's only sixteen minutes, do you hear me? Sixteen minutes! Come back here!" They watched them streak down the hall, both fast as Elves go, screaming at the top of their lungs, earning disapproving looks from the older Elves as they passed. Then they glared at Legolas and herself, as if they had started this. She watched them go wistfully, knowing she couldn't run until her chest had completely healed. That might take awhile, those cuts were deep, some of them...   
  
It then hit her that the hall was deserted. She and Legolas were alone. She suddenly became very nervous, and looked at the ground. Luckily, Legolas was still looking after where Tracie and Forest had gone, and didn't notice her sudden rush of adrenaline. Then, just as rapidly as it came, it left her even more drained than she had been before Tracie and Forest left. She sat down, exhausted. Legolas was immediately squatting down beside her, the picture of concern, as he had been when she first woke up. Delaney had been up until then silent, so restive that she had even forgotten someone else was inside her head. But with Legolas so close, and with them alone, Delaney made an attempt to resurface. Frantically she beat her down, scared silly what she might do. She really was getting better at this; Delaney slid back. A whisper reverberated through her mind, something she never experienced before. ~Please?~ What was this? She tried to send another message to Delaney. Were they actually communicating, for the first time? Intriguing. -No. He's mine.- Laughter, no more than an echo in her mind. At least it wasn't loud. ~Well, you've got a funny way of proving it.~ She remembered what Delaney had done to her earlier, a mental whip? She imagined a whip, a whip made of the finest cord, and gave her a light lick with it; any harder would have seriously hurt, and since Delaney was trying to take over her body, she really had to think about these things. She didn't realize her feet weren't touching the ground until after she was finished wrestling with Delaney inside her mind.  
  
"Legolas? What?" He was carrying her, she realized.  
  
"Hush. You nearly fainted. You're in no position whatsoever to walk." If this felt so nice, why did she always try to get out of being touched by Legolas? ~Because you're a wimp,~ said Delaney tartly. She decided to ignore that.  
  
"I'm an Elf, and thus I have perfect balance...put me down." Legolas laughed.  
  
"You're being silly, that's what you are. You've lost a lot of blood, you've completely over-done yourself, and you're not in any condition to even stand. I think your balance is taking a few days off."  
  
"Please don't take me to Awaren," she pleaded, "or I'll never see the outside again." He looked down at her with faint amusement written on his features.  
  
"Fear not, my fair maiden. Outside is exactly where we're going. Thou shalt see the sparkling water, and feel the kiss of sunlight on thy skin once more." Legolas could really go into the over-dramatic category when he wanted to be. Satisfied that she might escape Awaren's house, pleasant as it might be, she snuggled in and let him carry her. She might as well make the most of it, right? Speaking of kissing... Delaney stirred a little at this, but didn't try another take over attempt. If anything, she seemed a little pleased and contented, emotions that Rosellyn didn't usually associate with her odd companion. It was probably lucky that they didn't meet anyone on their way to the platform, but she wished that someone could see her like this. Not Tracie, though. Tracie would just have more ammunition to tease her about. Tracie was just not affected by Legolas's grin and laugh as badly as she was. No one came down this hallway, though. Only the younger crowd remembered there was a platform here, and it was the prettiest spot on the house. It was a shame that the elders should miss out, but a non-crowded platform had its advantages. Peace and quiet would be welcome. Plus a chance to be out in a pretty setting with Legolas. She felt an immediate change when they finally got out side. Mirkwood always had an aura of contentment about it, and it contributed greatly to the healing process of the mind. Men from the friendlier nations often brought patients here to recuperate from devastating injuries, and the Elves were more than happy to assist. She squirmed around.  
  
"Okay, put me down. I think I can stand now." He complied this time, and she stood, if a bit unsteadily, on her own.  
  
"Try walking." She did, a few tottering steps, as though she was an infant again. She didn't walk very far, but walk she did.  
  
"Okay." He sat down, watching her intently. She caught the look he gave her. "Really. You know how the air helps." He nodded.  
  
"That I do. I've never had these little sicknesses that Men are always complaining about. It must be horrible to live in the realms of Men."  
  
"If they're so mighty, how come they can't even hit 100?"  
  
"Exactly." He laughed. Then he reached up and pushed her down next to him. "Now sit. Air or no air, you still need to rest." She stuck her tongue out at him, but sat.  
  
"You sound like Awaren."  
  
"He makes sense, you know. Rest really is good for the body that's recovering from serious injuries."  
  
"I thought you never listened in the class." He looked comically hurt.  
  
"What ever would give you that idea?"  
  
"Hm, it would have to be the loud snoring coming from the back of the class in your general direction."  
  
"Don't let that fool you. I really don't listen." She laughed. It felt good to laugh on the inside, even if it wreaked havoc on her outside. She shimmied up to the edge of the platform and dipped her toes in the lake. The water was powerfully icy, as usual, and refreshing. Across the way, younger Elf children played on the shore, all equal to the cold, swimming and playing. Her Elf-eyes caught the shine of droplets as two little Elf boys, they couldn't be more than 700 years or so, splashed each other, screaming happily. "You miss that, don't you?" He whispered, catching sight of what she was looking at. She nodded wistfully, at the same time feeling giddy. Hey, he was whispering right into her ear. It tickled, and she liked being this close to him.  
  
"Yeah. I do. They're so young...they never got ambushed by Rider spies. They don't even think the Riders are a threat, if they know about them at all." Legolas leaned forward, getting a better look at them. As he did so, a strand of hair fell across his face. She resisted the urge to tuck it back behind his ear, and just settled for taking advantage of his preoccupation to just gaze at him. She was suddenly tired of resisting urges. The next one that came along, she gave into it, and shoved him in the water. Off balance, he toppled in head-first. She collapsed on the platform, laughing helplessly. He surfaced, treading water and looking like he couldn't believe what just happened, grinning like a maniac.  
  
"What was-! What did you do that for?" She grinned back.  
  
"Come on. The way you were sitting? You were just begging for it. Need help up?" He shrugged and swam over, grabbing her outstretched hand. "I'm warning you now: If you pull me in and the water messes up whatever potion Awaren used on me, I'll use what remaining limbs are left to me and make sure you have less. Got it?"  
  
"You know, you just have to go and ruin everything, don't you?"  
  
"Do you want up or not?"  
  
"All right, come on, help me up." With a heave, she got him out of the water up to his waist. He grabbed on to the platform with the other hand and hauled himself out. "Thanks. It's cold right about now. It feels...odd." She frowned.  
  
"How so?"  
  
"You know how Tracie was talking about how that arrowhead of yours would kill the lake?" She nodded slowly.  
  
"Like that." She leaned forward, then stopped.  
  
"Promise not to push me in?" He nodded.  
  
"I promise. In fact, if you fall, I'll help you up." Without saying anything to that, she stretched out flat on her stomach and reached out a hand, sinking it in the icy blue water. Cold, yes, but not colder than normal...but there was something there, like a film of invisible oil, tainting the water.  
  
"Black steel." She drew out the arrow, and held it over the water. Like a magnet, it pulled itself towards the water. She gripped it tightly, thwarting its intentions. Undaunted, the water leapt at it. Startled, she jumped back just as Legolas yanked her back more forcefully than he probably intended. The water slid back, leaving no evidence that it had just refuted everything they knew about the behavior of the substance. Without a word being spoken, they got up and went back inside.  
  
A/N: I'm trying to update a chapter a day, maybe more, but if I'm late, I have a darned good reason. Enjoy! 


	6. Poisoned

*Disclaimer* If I owned anything, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, would I? *sigh* If I owned LOTR, I REALLY wouldn't be writing fanfiction.  
  
A/N: Thank you for all your positive reviews! And for that unnamed person who flamed me, thanks for that as well. But please leave a name in the future. Read on!  
  
Chapter 6: Poisoned  
  
Delaney was stunned. Using Rosellyn's preoccupation, she slid into control, but she couldn't shake the feeling of the water. She was no Elf, but even with her limited human senses could tell that something was not right in that water. And the way the arrowhead had acted around the water. What was that about? ~It means that someone's put black steel in the water, whether they meant to or not, and it's still there.~ Rosellyn was in a foul mood now that Delaney wouldn't let her gain control. Would she ever be used to this? She just wanted to experience being near Legolas, she wouldn't have made a fool out of herself, if that's what Rosellyn was worried about. When she heard Rose's voice inside her head for the first time, it was a surprise, and it was somewhat pleasant. If they could talk, maybe they could end the snipping. Or not. This was fun, too. They still hadn't said a word, but it was basically understood that they were going to Awaren. If anyone could deal with this, he could, or Linka could. Where were Tracie and Forest? They must have ended the chase by now, and they should be bumping into them. Maybe they couldn't find them and went home. Over that tainted water...the thought made her skin crawl, as it had when she touched the water. And Legolas was soaked in that water. That couldn't bode well for him. They rounded a corner and slapped right into Linka.  
  
"Hello there, Rosellyn, it's good to see you out of bed. Legolas...why are you all wet?"  
  
"That's what we came here for," she panted, and started to tell the story, Legolas throwing in details that she missed, even inconsequential ones. Linka's face grew more and more grave with every passing word. When the tale finally wound to a close, Linka put her arm around Legolas and started to lead him away.  
  
"This is serious, and I'm glad you came straight to me. Legolas, you need to get clean. Rose, go back to your room for now, I'll send someone to you to see about getting a shirt that will fit over those bandages and get you cleaned up a mite yourself. Got that? Stay in your room, I'll come for you." With that, she and Legolas disappeared around a corner. Alone, dispirited, and harboring a growing sense of uncleanness, she walked slowly, head down, back to her room. As soon as she closed the door, she opened it for a friendly-looking Elf girl, maybe 1600 or so, with mystical blue eyes and bright blonde hair that fell as long as hers. As she set up camp at the vanity, she chattered constantly.  
  
"Hello, I'm Narle, what's your name?" Before she had even opened her mouth, Narle answered her own question. "It's Rosellyn, isn't it? Linka told me about what you did, and I think that's just wonderfully brave of you. How many were there in that band again? Oh yes, a score and a half of them, and you showed them who's boss!"  
  
"My friend Tracie took care of most of them-"  
  
"Yes, but you were nearly killed, weren't you, and took some of them down even when you were about to faint..." She found it was better just to shut up, as Narle only seemed interested in the sound of her own voice. She didn't even stop talking when she was vigorously scrubbing the taint from her hand and feet with a potion that, as even someone as dim-witted as Narle knew, could be fatal if misused. The only thing that stopped her annoyance in its tracks was the shirt she brought up for her.  
  
Delaney wasn't exactly a style fanatic, but even she had to admit that this was a beautiful, if plain, piece of clothing. The cloth was softer than cotton, and a pretty shade of forest green, one that would blend in perfectly with the surrounding woods. It was longer than a normal shirt, reaching almost halfway down her thighs, but it wasn't baggy. On the contrary, it was tailored to cling to her figure, with a fitted bodice area, and the bottom ballooned out slightly, almost like a skirt. Narle took out a pair of scissors and trimmed away the excess bandages, so they wouldn't look so bulky underneath the shirt. When she put it on, it felt better than just bandages. Plus, it was spaghetti straps. Delaney's body didn't look good in spaghetti straps. Rosellyn's body did. All the while, Narle had barely stopped to breathe. When she was finally done, Narle left, gathering up her supplies and muttering non-stop under her breath. She wasn't sorry to see the back of her. When was Linka going to come? Would Tracie or Forest drop by? Where were those twins? Tracie never stayed in a pet about her age this long, no matter how much Forest taunted. She grinned. One of the older, more grumpier Elves, probably grabbed them by the ears and tossed them out to go home. She idled at the window and looked out at the beach, now devoid of playing children. Whatever people wanted to say about Awaren, he acted fast when he saw a threat to his population. She was on the wrong side of the lake to see, but she assumed that Legolas had been scrubbed and sent home. At least Legolas had a home. Rosellyn didn't have parents that she knew of. Her dad had walked off on her when she was infant, taking her two older siblings, a sister named Kellys and a brother named Ellywin. She had lived with her mother until she was 1,396. It was then that the Riders had fixed their eye on the forest. At first, they had done the stupidest thing possible, and mounted a major attack on the Elves deep in their own territory. Her mother had been in the defense, and died saving Awaren's son, Syndar. Her mother had been carried off the field, and died an hour later, her last remaining family member by her side. It was then that Rosellyn had inherited Diamondsong, owning two knives when most Elves her age only had one. Syndar had died of his wounds a few days later, despite her mother's efforts. Because of her mother's sacrifice, she was brought to Linka's attention, and was placed in what Delaney could only describe as Elven foster care, unusual as Elves rarely became orphans. She had known Tracie and Forest as long as she could remember, but only met Legolas through Forest in class 200 years or so ago. Delaney felt sorry for Rosellyn as she had never felt sorry for herself. At least she had her mother. ~I don't need your pity,~ spat Rosellyn. She silently took the hint and stopped that thread of thought. -I'm sorry.- ~Don't be. At least I can carry a knife worth spitting over.~ -Where I come from, we don't need to carry knives, or learn how to use them, unless you want to.- ~Sounds nice. People don't invade you?~ -They don't dare.- ~Hm. Maybe Men do know more than we give them credit for.~ -Thanks. Coming from an Elf, that means a lot. I can show you.- They had never spoken this long before. But when you're bored, even an Elf in your mind is better company than none. Rosellyn sounded like she desperately trying to cover up excitement with badly feigned boredom. ~How do you propose to do that?~ -I can write about it. About where I come from. It'll work, I know it will. Where do you keep your writing stuff?- With a few directions from Rosellyn, she located some strange kind of paper and quill pens of all things! Maybe pens should be introduced, and fast. Or not. Elves had a perfectly good lifestyle; it wasn't for her to mess it up. ~Then don't. Write it like it's not real. Like a real story.~ She nodded, even though she knew Rosellyn couldn't see. She sat down and started writing right away. At first she was at a loss, but with a few promptings from Rosellyn, she gradually formed a character basis and a mild plot line.  
  
"Helen Smith lived in a place called Manhattan, on a planet called Earth..." By the time Linka finally came for her, she had written a good five pages and was halfway through a sixth. Rosellyn was eating this stuff up, fascinated. She hadn't realized Linka had entered the room until she spoke.  
  
"I never knew you had such a talent for writing, Rosellyn. Such imagination and reality! I should like to read the finished product." Delaney had imagination, loads of it, but she could never have created a society as complex as her own. She smiled at the compliment anyway.  
  
"Thank you. I just had an inspiration and had to write it down. Is Legolas going to be okay? Where are Tracie and Forest?"  
  
"Legolas will be fine, just as you will be. Tracie and Forest were caught up by some of our more venerable members of society and convinced that they would be better contributions at home."  
  
"Is the lake water really poisoned?"  
  
"Poisoned is the wrong word, dear. If you drink it, you won't get sick. Tainted is a better word. Whether intentionally or purposely, the enemy has put black steel in the lake. Your arrowhead, coming from the enemy, attracts it as only black steel does. Awaren tried his own black dagger on the water, and it responded not a whit. I think the water is more dangerous to those who have handled black steel. This rules out most of our colony, as Legolas and Awaren are the only ones who possess any, to the good of my knowledge. But don't worry, he'll be fine as long as he washes with that solution. I gave him some of it, so he'll be safe. I sent him home as well."  
  
"When's it my turn? When can I go back to Damita's place?" Linka's face grew inexplicably grave.  
  
"Rose, it hurts me that I've yet to hear you call Damita's house your home. Or any place, for that matter. Is something wrong?"  
  
"No...nothing's wrong..." Maybe Rosellyn should handle this. She receded, letting the presence that was her Elf friend slide up to prominence. Then she kept quiet and listened.  
  
Rosellyn was silent for a few moments, savoring the feel of muscle control for a few moments before answering. "My dad's still out there, as far as I know, or if he's taken a human lover, then my brother and sister are out there. I just want to be with the rest of my family again, my real family. I love Damita, and I couldn't ask for a better place to live, but I want my family. Am I well enough to go back?"  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that, Rosellyn. No, Awaren and I want to at least try and keep you here until your arm heals. Though the way you're going, you may get out of here as quickly as you can find a way. So what plans have you been contemplating? Getting your friends to arrange a boat in the middle of the night? No? You know they'd do it. They're completely devoted to you, as you are to them. So, what are your plans?" She smiled mysteriously.  
  
"Well, if I told you, you'd stop me, wouldn't you?" Linka smiled back.  
  
"Here's the deal: you get out of here without getting caught, you can stay. If we catch you, you get a day added on to your sentence. Every time you get caught, mind. Deal?" Linka solemnly extended her hand. Just as solemn, Delaney shook it.  
  
"Deal." With the times she snuck out of home, this should be a snap. Not that she snuck out to go anywhere; she didn't have anywhere to go. She just did it to see if she could, and every time she did it, she took a different route, and never got caught. -This is where you come in, Rosellyn.- ~Rose, please.~ -One good turn deserves another. Call me Della. You going to help?- ~Oh, yeah. We're in this together, you know.~ -Hard to miss.- She smiled. Linka had left. This added a bit of intrigue. -How long should we stay?- ~Oh, at least half a week or so. This is a healing process, after all.~ -You know best.- ~Of course I do. Keep writing.~ -Gotcha.- She started back on the writing process. Unlike some of her other projects, she never lost interest in it. Maybe because it was real. It was all real. It wasn't writing, it was documentation. Rose was perpetually awestruck, and Delaney was all too willing to supply mental images when Rose's imagination couldn't conceive the picture. Such items were cars, apartment buildings, any high rise prospects, airplanes, space shuttles, and cats. Apparently, the Elves didn't keep pets. By the time she finally admitted to being tired, it was dark, the sky a rich midnight blue, spattered with stars and the pinnacle of the night, a perfect sliver of a golden moon suspended in the heavens. -Wow. We've got nothing like the sky you have.- She stopped for a moment. -Well, not where I live, at least. But some places are still this pretty. I wonder how long it's going to last.- ~I was reading your book, and I envied your world so. But if you have to give up the natural beauty of everything, what's the point? Do these cat things contribute to that?~ -No. Cats are officially innocent.- ~Good. They're cute.~ Delaney grinned. Some things never change.  
  
A/N: Sorry this was a bit late; really fell behind. I'll try to be better in the future! 


	7. So Close, and Yet So Far

*Disclaimer* I think we've been through this enough to get the picture. Legolas isn't mine (more's the pity), and neither is Middle Earth.  
  
Chapter 7- So close, and yet so far...  
  
When Rosellyn woke up the next morning, Delaney was still asleep in her mind. She decided after a few minutes to let her be. She wasn't disturbing anything. Dawn was peeking on the sky, but she never paid much attention to the time she woke up. She picked her way through the mess Delaney...Della...had made of her room and picked up the sheaves of paper she had been writing in. It was her handwriting, but she didn't write this. It was a lot better seeing it with physical eyes, and she ran her mind over the images Della had showed her when they came up in the writing, utterly fascinated. So this was where her companion came from... Della didn't wake up until the sun was well up in the sky, and gave a mental stretch. ~Good morning. How do you like the story?~  
  
"It's excellent," she said out loud, not bothering to just think it to her. "This person, Helen, she seems so real, like you know her. Odd name, though." ~Trust me, where I come from, you'd be laughed out of town with a name like Rosellyn.~ She sniffed and didn't dignify that with a response. When she was finished, she read it again, and would have read it a third time if Linka hadn't interrupted. She walked into the room, and Narle followed her in with a tray of breakfast. It didn't surprise her that she was muttering to herself. Della was laughing insanely inside her head, so much so that she herself started to grin. She had some experience with Narle before, and the girl was the most fluff-brained Elf in existence. ~You don't say,~ giggled Della between spurts of laughter.  
  
"Feeling better this morning?" asked Linka cheerfully as she motioned to Narle to set the tray down on the vanity. Linka applied more of the potion for her arm, and outlined her day for her. "Now, when you finish breakfast you're going to report directly to the balcony room upstairs, and we're going to do some simple excersises for your arm, to keep it nimble. Then after that you're on your own until lunch. After lunch, we'll need you and your arrowhead to do a slight, eh, demonstration, shall we say? Then..." She let Linka's voice wash over her as she ate, knowing full well that Della would be paying close attention, and she could refer to her if she forgot. Della was clamoring in her mind, wanting to taste Elf food. -As soon as you finish, I want control back,- she warned. ~Yes, yes, I know. Please?~ She was as good as her word. The second she was done eating, Rosellyn was in control again. The day flew by, and the next and the next. A truce, of sorts, had developed between herself and Della. Legolas and the twins visited when they could, which was every other minute. She outlined Linka's odd proposal to Legolas, knowing that if anyone could sneak her out, it was him. Tracie could be loose-brained at times, and the first thing Forest would have done was to tell Tracie. The less people that knew, the less chance there was of Awaren or Linka finding out. She had to admit, Della was an invaluable help. Who knew that her friend would have been such a...delinquent. She wouldn't have thought of half the things that Della pointed out. Even Legolas was impressed, and he was supposed to have known everything there was about sneaking out. Within a week, the plan was made and pronounced fool-proof by all parties. Thanks to miraculous Elven medicine, her arm was on the road to recovery, and she could even manage simple knife tricks. By the end of said week, she could also run for short spurts without aggravating her chest too much. At the beginning of the next, when she and Legolas were quietly putting their heads together in her room (this was all planned; they were positive Linka knew about the secret platform, and the excuse to get air could only work for so long), they decided that the ball would roll tomorrow night.  
  
"Is this wise?"  
  
"Now or never."  
  
"Is it all ready?"  
  
"Ready as it's gonna be."  
  
"Good. 7:00, then." Rosellyn relaxed slightly and scrutinzed him.  
  
"So, how'd you manage to get away from your house? I heard your mother had you on a lock-down."  
  
"I think you'd have learned by now: when Legolas wants to get out, he's half-way into the forest."  
  
"Won't you get in trouble, though? I don't want you in trouble."  
  
"Maybe. I think that my dad's secretly proud of me." She laughed, hoping that he was right. Legolas's mother was a close-minded Elf if she ever met one, and didn't approve of her son being friends with an orphaned Elf. The fact that her mother had ranked pretty low in the Elven hierarchy to begin with didn't help. His father, she wasn't so worried about. He had a good sense of humor, and his wife usually listened to him.  
  
"Okay, if you're sure." He nodded and twirled a smallish, heavy glass sphere, about the size of his two fists, around on his fingers and the back of his hand. It was a popular sport among other Elves, but it hadn't really caught on in Mirkwood. To Legolas, the heavy globe seemed weightless as he maneuvered it skillfully between his hands. He had tried to teach her and the twins, but Tracie was the only one who had even remote success with the skill. Legolas was doing so well at it now that her hands fairly itched to try it. She took another, lighter one (different colored glass balls were a favorite decoration of Awaren) from the huge window ledge and mimicked Legolas, making a kind of dish with the back of her hand and, with an awkward motion, rolled her hand quickly, effectively, if sloppily, rolling the ball into her palm. Legolas was impressed.  
  
"Wow! I didn't know you remembered so much! You were hopeless last time."  
  
"Neither did I," she replied honestly, but Legolas was already slipping in to the task-master mode. She sighed and resigned to it. He was a good teacher, but a lack of talent was something that just couldn't be cured.  
  
"That was good, but you need to be more confident with the flipping motion. Also, it wouldn't hurt to try and dip your hand a little more. Like this," he took one of her hands in his, causing her pulse to sky-rocket. Luckily, he didn't go as high as her wrist, or there was no way he could have missed it. He pushed her inner fingers down, making a better pocket for the ball. "Now, try that again." She did it again, only this time the ball fell. "Ah, I see the problem. You're afraid the ball is going to fall, so you make the movement too jerky. Fluid, like you do with your knives. Slowly. Not too fast. Got it? Here, watch." He flipped it over into his palm, and she saw what he meant. Fluid. She tried it again, and got much better results.  
  
"Look at that, I got it!" she said excitedly. Legolas was just as glad.  
  
"See, I told you you could do it. Now, let's try another trick. You start out basically the same, only you make a shallower dip in the back of your hand. No, not that shallow! Like this, see," he gave a frustrated sigh and took her hand again. At that moment, as luck would have it, Tracie and Forest came in. For a moment there was silence, and she was all too aware of three things. One, that she was still holding Legolas's hand, and the twins were staring at it. Two, that she was blushing like the setting sun. Three, that Della was also just as, if not more, embarrassed as she was, and when Della felt an emotion strongly, it always seeped into her own emotions. Tracie was the first to break the silence.  
  
"Are we interrupting anything?" At the same time, they yanked their hands away.  
  
"No," said Legolas at once, at the same time as she did. She didn't need Della to tell her, even though she was, that the speaking at once didn't exactly lend credence to the 'no'. Forest looked as though he was trying his best to keep a straight face, carefully looking at every part of the room except for them.  
  
"So, ah, Legolas, your mother sent me to look for you, and I'm not to let you out of my sight until you're in hers." Legolas cursed so vividly that for a second they all stared at him. Then, apparently composed, he stood.  
  
"Lead the way." The second they were gone, Tracie attacked her.  
  
"What were you doing? Why was he holding your hand? What did you do? Why-" She pushed her friend away impatiently.  
  
"Nothing! Okay, nothing happened!"  
  
"I'm so sure! He was holding your hand. Come on, I'm your friend, you can tell me, it's not like I'm jealous or anything, come on."  
  
"I am coming on. I'm telling the truth! Nothing happened, I swear."  
  
"You know Forest's gonna ask Legolas, so I'll just see how your story checks out."  
  
"Do that. It's going to be the same." Tracie looked overwhelmingly frustrated at her friend's protests of innocence.  
  
"Fine. Let's say for a moment that nothing was going on, which I didn't say I believed. Was something going to happen?"  
  
"For the love of all that is good, will you just drop it? All that was going to happen was that I'd improve on my skill to play with these little glass spheres. Okay?"  
  
"No. Come on, Rose, face it. You like him." She blew a sigh.  
  
"I thought we established this a long time ago."  
  
"Will you just suck it up and tell him?"  
  
"No! What if he doesn't like me like I like him? If I tell him, and he doesn't like me back, he might become uncomfortable, and then we'd never be friends again. I don't want that to happen!" Tracie rolled her eyes.  
  
"Must you always think negatively? It won't happen. Besides, if he doesn't like you then you certainly deserve better."  
  
"Better? Better than the best archer in the forest, better than the cutest, sweetest, hottest Elf in existence? Do tell, Trace, how could I do better than Legolas?" Tracie had an infuriatingly smug look on her face.  
  
"I was hoping you'd see it my way." Rosellyn cursed to herself for falling for the bait.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Oh look, she's on the run!"  
  
"Go away." Tracie adopted a hurt look and started for the door.  
  
"Okay. If you're sure, then. But think about what I said. Kiss him, okay?" She jumped up and slammed the door shut on her friend. When she sat down, Della started talking. ~You know what's sad?~ -Do tell.- ~It's all true.~ -Yep. Sad.- ~It sounds like good advice, but...could you do that? Just up and tell him?~ -Never in a million years-. ~Well, in a million years, if he's not taken, we'll all be happy.~ -That's right, I can. It must be horrible to be a human.- ~That's one way of putting it.~ She sat with her head in her hands. Delaney took advantage of her preoccupation to slip in to prominence. Rosellyn was being a lot nicer, but a person really missed being able to see with your own eyes, and feel things. She idly picked up the crystal sphere and flipped it onto her palm. Her eyes widened in shock. -Hey! I didn't know I kept your talents when we switched control!- ~Makes sense, doesn't it? It's still my body~. -Awesome! Can I try flipping knives?- ~Carefully, please, I'm the one that has to live without a finger if you mess up.~ -All right, calm down.- It worked. She could spin knives just as well as Rosellyn could. -This is amazing. Being an Elf is so cool-. She practiced with the crystal until she had it down smoothly, and attempted some of the tricks Legolas was trying. None of them worked, and Rose finally had to tell her to stop before she broke it. She obeyed, not in the mood to argue. She walked out to see exactly where her room was. It was on the second story, that she knew, but not where, specifically. It was above one of the less populated platforms, making it fairly quiet for the person in the room, namely, her. There was a slight projection from her window, way too small to be a balcony, but perfect to bring a pillow out and sit. This she did. It was formed like all Elven structures, decorative with lacy swirls of whatever building materials the Elves used. This was very nice if, say, she wanted to climb down to the platform. Could she? She stretched experimentally. Yes, she decided. Rosellyn's body was agile, and Delaney was a pretty good climber herself. Checking to see that no one was below, she swung down, using the profusion of jutting decorations to land and grab on to. Then, with a soft thump, she landed on the abandoned platform. She could just as easily climb up, if needed. She stored that away in her memory, because you never knew when stuff like this could come in handy. She sat on the platform, careful not to touch the water, and then lay down, staring at the sky. As she watched, soft clouds began to gather, and an even softer rain began to fall. Not a cold, hard rain, that felt like bullets when the raindrops hit you, but a light, warm rain that felt refreshing when it touched your skin. How long she lay like that, she didn't know. It was peaceful, just lying out in this glorious rain, feeling the kiss of cool raindrops on her face. Eventually, though, Rose pushed her out of her daydream and said that she wanted to get back in the room. Reluctantly, she stood up and began to scale the wall again. She was halfway up when she heard the last thing she expected: someone calling her name.  
  
"Rose!" With a small 'eep!' of surprise, she lost her footing, found it again, then lost her grip, and found it again. When she looked down, there was Forest, of all Elves, for once without Tracie. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Okay, I did mean to scare you, but I didn't mean to make you lose your grip. Come down." She jumped the distance down and landed lightly next to him. Being an Elf rocked.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, I just wanted to...talk to you." She frowned. Supplemented by Rose's memories, Forest was never hesitant.  
  
"So...talk." He shifted from foot to foot. She waited patiently. In this mood, it was easy to out-wait anybody. She was correct; about five seconds later he burst out his question as if he didn't have enough time left on the planet to get the words out.  
  
"WhatwereyouandLegolasdoingbecausehewon'ttellmeanythingandI-"  
  
"Whoa, slow down. Slow down and breathe. Now then, what are you trying to say?" He took a deep breath and began again, this time at a human pace. ~Don't insult him,~ said Rose tartly.  
  
"Okay. What did you and Legolas do? He won't tell me anything." She sighed with frustration. Was she ever going to hear the end of this?  
  
"Nothing! Okay? Not one thing!" She bit off each word.  
  
"Come on, Rosellyn. He was-"  
  
"Yeah, I know, I was there, remember? He was teaching me to play with those little glass spheres. That's all, okay? Have I ever lied about you to about something like this?" He shook his head despondently, as if she had truly disappointed him.  
  
"No. No, you haven't. I believe you."  
  
"Good, now tell that to your sister."  
  
"You try telling Tracie anything she doesn't want to hear! And while you're doing that, I'll go sprout wings and fly."  
  
"All right, I get it. There's no need to sound so disappointed."  
  
"I...I know, but I just...Okay, I always thought you two would be good for each other." She glared at him.  
  
"Keep talking Forest, and I might be forced to hurt you." He grinned like he did when he was either teasing someone or playing a joke.  
  
"What? Don't you like him? I always-" She shoved him in the water. He hadn't touched any black steel that she knew of, so he would be fine. He gasped at the sudden coldness. "Okay," he gasped slowly, treading water rapidly to keep warm. "That was completely uncalled for." She smiled sweetly and hauled him out of the water.  
  
"Maybe in your opinion." His grin returned, as she knew it would.  
  
"Okay, I surrender." He stood there, looking at her for a moment, then did something completely unexpected. He ran up and grabbed her in a rough embrace. "I still think you'd be good together," he whispered, for once dead serious. Then he let her go and set off at a dead run. She stood there for a few seconds, completely poleaxed, letting the gentle rain soak her, then slowly began to climb back up to her room.  
  
A/N: See, I'm getting better about updating, really. Thanks again for the reviews! 


	8. Runin with the Riders

*Disclaimer* This could get old. I'll have at least 20 more chapters, and I can't think of an original disclaimer every time... needless to say, if it doesn't sound like I own it, I probably don't.  
  
Chapter 8- Run in with the Riders  
  
A/N: I realize the Riders weren't this despotic and Elf-hating, but I claim a bit of artistic license on that. Now, read on!  
  
Delaney had been volunteered by Rose to be the one in control when the escape actually took place. It wasn't that Rose was scared; far from it. It had just been rationalized that since she had been the brains behind it, she would remember better what to do, and to do it correctly. She ran through it again in her mind. It was fool-proof. Would it be the undoing of the plot? Silent as nightfall, she crept through the empty halls, dressed in midnight-black. The only thing that would give away her position to a not particularly observant person was the glint of moonlight off her eyes. -It's too quiet. Even for night. Is ever this quiet around here?- Rosellyn sounded a little tense, to say the least. ~Outside, maybe. Never in here. There's always someone around here. How could they possibly know?~ -I have no clue. Maybe someone tipped her off.- ~So what do we do?~ -Well, when the game is up, you do exactly what these people least expect you to do.- ~Which is?~ -Look at it this way. They know you're smart, and they might even know Legolas's been helping you. They know that this plan is blunder-proof.- ~Kindly get to the point of this before dawn, please. What do they least expect you to do?~ -I should think you'd seen this. The answer is obvious. Blunder.- She left Rose to mull over that while she went in the opposite direction that was planned. It was fool-proof now. It would be even better once she got finished with it.  
  
She climbed out the nearest window and quietly scaled up to the top. She looked around carefully, perched on the highest point like some sort of cat. Then she caught sight of something moving. Common Elf this was not; Delaney in her ignorance might have thought twice, but Rose could not. Linka was lying in wait on one platform, Awaren where it was planned for Legolas to have her escape. ~Are you thinking?~ Only Rose could be that clever under pressure. -As fast as I can. If only that stupid black steel wasn't in the water! We could swim. Umm. A boat. Something to float on, at least, so we won't get wet...- Her eyes lit up in the dark. Rose sounded edgy, even more so than usual. ~Oh no. I don't like this. What are you thinking? Come on, let me in on it. What are you going to make my body do? It better not be anything too-~ -Just shut up, okay? How stupid would I have to be to actually knowingly inflict bodily harm on myself, yourself, us, you get it. Whatever. Just keep your mental hair on, okay?- Rose blew a frustrated sigh, but kept silent, trusting Delaney. No pressure. As quiet as Rose's Elf abilities would allow, she climbed down to her room and got the wooden tub that she took baths in, made of a light wood and carved within an inch of its life. ~Paddles! We can't use our hands, remember?~ Delaney heaved a sigh, her concentration broken. -Duh. I realize that. Just-just give me a second, be quiet-. She stared around the room, frantically searching for something that would serve for a paddle. Nothing. -Come on, I'm hanging here. I need something! Time's running out. Dawn is only a few hours away!- ~Nothing. I've got nothing.~ She was so frustrated she could almost taste it. Something had to work... Delaney remembered her old stand-by and threw herself down on the floor. But this wasn't the human world. Maybe it wouldn't work. No, it had to. Teens were teens. She wriggled under the bed and felt around. Her heart stopped as she felt something long and wooden. Hardly daring to breathe, she pulled it out. A long wooden spatula, a very dusty spatula. She did her little victory dance, waving around the item. ~How did that get there?~ asked Rose, almost dead with relief and surprise. It wasn't over yet, though. She readied the small craft, but didn't board it. Then she ran as fast as she could to the kitchen. ~What are you doing?! We need to get away! One hour to dawn, remember?~ She pushed on doggedly, not bothering to answer such a stupid remark. She dashed into the kitchen and crashed accidentally-on-purpose into a supply closet of pots and pans. Then she banged the window open and ran out again. Right on schedule, Elves burst into the kitchen, looking for the midnight mischief maker. By the time they realized no one was in there, Delaney was half-way across the lake, paddling doggedly with her make-shift boat and oar.  
  
Legolas met her on the shore, shaking his head in amazement.  
  
"Why are you in a bath tub, paddling with a spatula? I thought we had made plans a bit more sophisticated than that." She shook him off and began running.  
  
"Not now," she hissed, "I still need to get to Dam's. I'll explain there." He shrugged and put on a turn of speed, catching up with her easily. It was just not fair that someone could be that good-looking and athletic. Some Elves just get all the luck. They were almost there when a cry rang through the dark.  
  
"Oy! You! Stop! Stop her! Stop them!" Delaney cursed and sped up, Legolas easily keeping stride. She had a feeling that he was only running this fast so she could keep up. The idea outraged her and she ran faster, feet stamping the ground, all Elf sense of silence out the window. Something ate at her mind, though. Linka couldn't possibly have gotten across so fast; and that voice didn't sound like anyone she knew... A stitch in her side started to form; she ignored it gamely and expelled the breath fiercely through her nose.  
  
"Come on, Rosellyn, you can run faster than that, run!" Legolas put on a turn of speed. She narrowed her eyes and put all her remaining energy into catching up with the cocky Elf-prince. With a final burst, she out-distanced him and collapsed on the foot of the steps to Damita's house. She laid there, gasping vainly for breath as Legolas ran up, only breathing slightly heavy. "Can you get up?" She tried, but her muscles had turned to water. Arms shaking, she collapsed, shaking her head weakly. "You've come too far to be caught so close. Come here." He picked her up gently, then sprinted up the steps as fast as he could with his burden. Cries became more audible. She frowned. She was right! They weren't Elven!  
  
"Those two ran up there! Quick, before they tell the others!" Tell the others what? Rose impatiently transmitted a scene she had witnessed, but Delaney had been too preoccupied to notice. She was getting out of the bath tub on the shore. Sound was cut off, but in the corner of her imaginary mind, there was movement. Men, by their height, burying something. She knew instantly what it was, without Rose's prod. Black steel!  
  
"Riders!" she yelled, "Put me down!" His lips were pressed in a thin line, and he did not slow down a whit.  
  
"You're not strong enough!" he shouted above the mounting cries, skillfully ducking an arrow.  
  
"I am now!" she retorted, and wrenched herself out, landing hard on the narrow steps, just as the first Men surged up the stairs. With the quiver he was never without, Legolas quickly strung his bow and launched arrow after arrow into the seething ranks.  
  
"Rosellyn! Get behind me!" She scrambled to her feet and unsheathed her knives, the twirling steel flashing deadly patterns in the night.  
  
"No, I'll get next to you," she retorted with a smile, adrenaline rushing through her veins at the prospect of a skirmish. The Men who had ducked under Legolas's arrows rushed at them, stupidly thinking the Elf girl would be easy game. With impossible to follow speed, she dropped two with a cry and whirled to face the others. They stepped back, unsure, none seeming too eager to try their luck against the inseperable duo. Legolas's arrows made up their minds for them, and they turned to run, but met with an impenatrable wall of Elven warriors. Suddenly, two teens seemed like a better bet. They turned again and tried again, this time in full force. Legolas unsheathed his knives, and they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, faces grim. At the first clash, four fell and were trampled as the rest tried to cut through to freedom. Legolas took a small slash on his cheek, and the way he blatantly ignored it, a small line of red tracing across his cheekbone, made his wild-eyed appearance all the more frightening. Rosellyn surged into control, having a better head for battle, just as she took a slight thrust to the shoulder.   
  
If Delaney hadn't dropped back in that second, she probably would have fainted from that cut; with an overload of adrenaline, the pain was only a distant annoyance as Rosellyn dropped the offending Man. By that time, the rest of the Elves caught up with them, and the job was quickly finished. As everyone stood around, chests heaving for breath, Linka stepped up daintily. In her flowing green dress, the Elf queen looked wantonly out of place on the bloodied steps. Catching her breath, Rosellyn looked up at her.  
  
"I suppose this means I'm caught?" she asked with a slight grin. Linka smiled at Damita's approach, the Elf-wife timidly shocked at the sight of battle on her steps.  
  
"I would not be that cold-hearted, my dear. To fool myself and hold the steps of Damita's flet with only yourself and young Greenleaf here is enough to earn you an amnesty. I trust your most recent injury is not serious?" She shook her head wearily, bone-deep exhaustion coming back into her body. Running, fighting, and lack of sleep...her body was protesting at the top of its hypothetical lungs. Legolas looked at her concernedly, guessing what was going on, but saying nothing.  
  
"No...it's just superficial...hi, Dam, nice...to see...you...again..." Her legs buckled underneath her, and she was comotose before Legolas caught her.  
  
A/N: They always seem to be in that position, but it never has a hint of romance in it...ah well, if you support this fic, you might be rewarded if you stay faithful! 


	9. Always Keep Your Courage Up

*Disclaimer* I don't...oh whatthehell. I own nothing. NOTHING! What more do you people want from me???  
  
A/N: I know things are going a little slow right now... but the action picks up, I promise!  
  
Chapter 9- Always keep your courage up  
  
She woke up in her room for the first time. Nice as Linka's house was, nothing could compare to being in her room, the one she had decorated herself, the one that was so especially...her. It was airy and open, with lacy balcony and style that was trademark Elf workmanship. Her bed was nice and big, with soft, fluffy comforters in her preferred color, lavender. In fact, her whole room was lavender. The walls, the furniture, the decorations, everything. She loved this particular shade, because it was so rare in Mirkwood. Everything here was brown and green, with red and orange flowers in the blooming season. In Lothlorién, it was golden and green. But never purple. It was such a calming color. Since it was the first thing she saw, it always gave her a feeling of unequal contentment. Damita bustled in, as usual, with morning greetings.  
  
"Oh, Rosellyn, you have no idea how happy I am to have you home again! Breakfast's ready; Meira and Eleria are downstairs, bursting their wrist guards to see you again." Meira and Eleria were Damita's children. Damita's husband had been killed in one of the early skirmishes with the Riders, the same one that proved fatal for Rosellyn's mother. When Rellyn Stillwater died, Damita had immediately, without being asked, volunteered to take her last remaining child into her care.  
  
"Wait, Dam, don't leave just yet. I want to ask you something." Puzzled, Damita sat down on the bedside next to her.  
  
"Well, what's on your mind, sweetie?" She fidgeted with her covers while she spoke, unconsciously betraying her anxiety over the question. She reached under her pillow and pulled out two small, old-looking pictures in exquistely wrought frames.  
  
"Is this what Kel and Ellis looked like?" Damita sighed, as she always did when the subject of Rose's family came up. Nevertheless, she took the two pictures and examined them. Then, after a long perusing, she returned them.  
  
"More or less. Your mother was always a very good artist, had a knack for capturing minute details that caused the picture to come alive. But this was done after they left, and came back for a short visit, then left again. If she'd had them right in front of her, they'd be much more-" Rose shot upright, scaring the poor woman.  
  
"My brother and sister, they came back?!" Damita looked furious with herself for blurting out that little morsel.  
  
"I didn't mean to tell you that until you were older. Yes, but you wouldn't remember. You were young, only 500 or so. Your father left soon after you were born. Kel was 900, Ellis just over his 1000th year. He didn't give much of an explanation that I heard; I always wondered, though, that if he did what most suspected and left to spite your mother, why he didn't take you as well. Granted, you were only 3 years or so, but you were a beautiful baby, even back then. Oh yes, the pictures. Well, Kel was never this solemn; couldn't keep a straight face if her life depended on it! Always laughing, Kel was. Her hair was longer than that, almost as long as yours is now. As for Ellis, this is a pretty good depiction of him, except that she could never find the right color for his hair, so she settled on this. It had a touch more red in it, darker, too. And his eyes always changed with his moods. Here, they're dark and black, much like your little friend Legolas. That means he's sad. I think she always secretly hoped that Kel and Ellis had been taken against their will, that they had wanted to stay with their mother, in their home."  
  
"But you said that they left...Wouldn't that mean that they left, you know..." Damita nodded sadly.  
  
"Indeed. When your father left, he raised them in Lothlorién. If you ever see Lorién, you'll indeed see why anyone raised there would be eager to get back...even if they are Mirkwood Elves..." Her voice got extremely quiet as she voiced her last thought. Then, apparently composed, she straightened up and jumped off the subject as quickly as a young Elfling off a platform. "Well, come along. Meira wants to hear all about the...skirmish...last night." Damita wasn't an Elf fond of the fighting arts, just like her youngest, Eleria. Meira, however, loved archery and knife tricks, even if she was dismal at them. Rose promised to teach her, but she wasn't very good at teaching, not like Legolas, or Tracie. One session with Tracie, and Meira turned out a lot better than a month of lessons with Rose. Oh well. She threw on a sky blue robe over her battle-stained clothes that no one had changed since last night, to preserve little Eleria, who was quite delicate about these sort of things, and walked down the stairs, past the little decorative waterfall and into the kitchen. Eleria was peering over her mother's shoulder, helping her clean some dishes, and Meira was at the table, still eating, her feet dangling about six inches off the ground as she sat at her chair. She jumped down at her approach, however, and threw her arms around her, shrieking aloud.  
  
"Rosie! Rosie's awake! Come on, sit down, Mommy made some really good lembas for breakfast. They've got berries on them, just like you like them!" She examined the food Dam piled on her plate, relieved to see that they weren't the 'journey lembas', but just snack type ones. They didn't give you the extreme energy boost that the journey ones did, but they were certainly tasty. And she did like them with fruit. She talked to Meira about everything she asked, and ate between sentences, until Dam finally snapped her dish towel at her and said to go clean her room and leave the breakfast room in peace. Sullenly, she obeyed, but perked up at the promise of knife lessons later on, but only if her room was spotless. With a squeak of excitement, Meira ran off, as only little Elves can do. Eleria and Dam soon followed, leaving Rosellyn to herself. She savored the quiet as she ate her breakfast. When she was done, she gave Dam a break and rinsed off her own plate. Then she went upstairs to change and examine her shoulder.  
  
It wasn't serious; thanks to her Elven healing powers, it was almost gone, as were her other wounds, leaving only trace scars. She looked at her clothes, which were completely ruined through knife slashes and blood, and burned them promptly. Then she changed into new ones. As she did, Della suddenly popped up. ~Wish we had those lembas things where I come from. Those are really good!~ Rose gave a half-smile as she pulled a brush through her hair. -Maybe, but if they were your diet for days on end, you wouldn't be so fond of them.- Della sounded skeptical. ~You would know from experience?~ She twisted her lips ruefully and fought the brush through a snarl. -Well...no. But the twins went to visit their uncle in Rivendell, and they said it got old very quickly.- That seemed to satisfy Della. It was odd; her normally chatty friend was being deceptively quiet today. -Is everything all right?- she asked. -You seem so...distant.- The reply she got back was not very convincing. ~What? Oh...I'm fine. Really.~ Since it was obvious she would get no more, she dropped the subject and walked outside. She stood on the balcony, looking down at the steps, which were still soaked in blood, though the bodies had been removed. How much of that was hers? How much was Legolas's, or Elven at all? How much was from the Riders? Sighing, she went back into the kitchen and wet some rags. Then she climbed down and began scrubbing. Halfway through, she got a surprise visit from Tracie, who also bore wet rags.  
  
"Thought I'd help you," she said. "Legolas and Forest would come, but Forest is doing some chores for mom, and Legolas...well, I happened to overhear..."  
  
"Tracie, I keep telling you: eavesdropping is going to get you in trouble." Tracie grinned disarmingly, the perfect picture of innocence.  
  
"Eavesdropping is such a harsh word! Besides, if I didn't listen around, how would I hear anything? Anyway, the war hero is grounded, and evidently he realized that this time mommy Greenleaf meant it, because there's no breakout plan in the works."  
  
"How did you hear that?"  
  
"From him, of course. I snuck up to his window, because I knew you'd want to know. I'm supposed to bring back a detailed report, so..." She squinted at her friend, pretending to evaluate her from head to toe. "Yes, I'd say, female, Elf, brown hair, green eyes, pointed ears, tall, evidently has a crush on a certain Elf, dare I say it, his name is-" Rosellyn's shove sent her sprawling.  
  
"All right, ha ha, very funny. Tell him that all I got was a little nick on the shoulder, and it's almost gone. Now, you want to help, then help." After about five minutes, Tracie was hopping up and down again.  
  
"Oh, I almost forgot! This is from Forest and me, a sort of get well-slash-congratulations present." She fished around in her pocket and brought out a leaf-shaped hair-pin. Glowing with pleasure, Rosellyn fixed it in her hair, then took her hands away for Tracie to admire it. "There, that looks nice. Matches your eyes nicely. This is from me, just because it was a bad attempt at a birthday present from Forest. Don't worry, he knows I'm giving it to you." Out came another hair-pin, this one shaped like a multi-colored butterfly. "This one suits your coloring better than it does mine, so here you go."  
  
"Thanks! These are really great trinkets. I will have the best looking hair among all the cleaning Elves." Tracie laughed as well, and they continued scrubbing, chatting about pointless but entertaining topics. Finally, when it was all done, Meira jumped down, demanding her knife lesson. Tracie departed, but not before whispering in Rosellyn's ear the significance of the hair-pin.  
  
"It's a green leaf. Just to remind you to keep up your courage." Touched by the thoughtfulness of it, amused by the connection, and frustrated at this thing that was obviously going to follow her for the rest of her life, she set off up to Meira's room to deliver the promised lesson.  
  
TBC, of course, but I can't promise that it'll be anytime soon. May mayn't, as the case may be... 


	10. A Man in Mirkwood

*Disclaimer* See other chapters, because I'm not wasting any more strength saying this.  
  
A/N: Again, yay for all you lovely reviewers! And Animouse, thanks for that sight. Unfortunately, I'm almost finished with this story. But if I find I'm adding extra characters, I'll be sure to use that! Read on, my faithful readers!  
  
Chapter 10- A Man in Mirkwood  
  
The Riders were getting more and more dangerous. Rosellyn couldn't figure out why she thought that. They hadn't attacked, or even sent out scouting parties since the Battle of the Flet Steps, as it was being called. Yet something was growing in her mind, a threat that could only be emanating from the Riders. But they seemed to be lying dormant for the time being. Then it came to her. -Della! You've been trying to warn me, haven't you?- Her friend sounded distant, confused. ~Have I? I don't know. I've been feeling strange lately, and I guess I just transmitted it on to you. I don't like how quiet the Riders have been. They should be sniping at us, trying to gauge our strength. But they haven't been. They've been silent, like they're trying to lull us into a false sense of security...~ Rosellyn thought about that, with a growing sense of unease. If the Riders had gauged their strength, they would either gather reinforcements or wait them out. If battle was coming... She shuddered. She was a trained fighting Elf, but that didn't mean she liked it. Instinctively, her feet carried her towards the ferry that took her to Awaren and Linka's palace. At the door, she met the last person she expected to see: a Man. He smiled at her, and he apparently wasn't a Rider, so she smiled back.  
  
"Hello, miss. Come to see Linka and Awaren, I take it?" She nodded politely.  
  
"Yes, I am. Forgive my bluntness: why are you here?" He smiled and laughed at that, like it was some sort of joke.  
  
"I am recovering from...an illness. You Elves work wonders here." She understood. He had been suffering from a mental problem. "Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Benvenue Haltier, from the country of Gondor. You are?"  
  
"Rosellyn Stillwater, sir. It's nice to meet you. How long have you been here?" she asked curiously. She hadn't heard that there was a new patient. However, if the problem had been serious, it wouldn't have been spread around.  
  
"Oh, I've been in my rooms for a month or so. Miss Humanblood only now considers me fit to be around others. Ah well, if that's what it takes...I've never felt so healthy as I have in Mirkwood and Rivendell..." She was suddenly brimming with a hundred more questions.  
  
"Rivendell? You've been to Rivendell?" He smiled.  
  
"Indeed, I have. I met the illustrious Elrond, and his equally illustrious and beautiful daughter, Arwen. A place of beauty, is Rivendell. Now that I've seen Mirkwood, though, I am torn between the two." They walked around the outside veranda, Rosellyn taken with Benvenue's easy talking skills.  
  
"Have you ever been to Lothlorién?" she asked, overflowing with curiousity. He shared in her excitement, treating her as an intellectual equal.  
  
"No, I'm afraid I've yet to visit the Lady of the Wood. But I hope to once I get out of here."  
  
"I've heard it's absolutely gorgeous there," she sighed, imagining what Lady Galadriel looked like. He nodded absently.  
  
"As have I. I don't suppose you've been to Rivendell?" She shook her head disappointedly.  
  
"No. But I've always wanted to. I don't suppose you could do me a favor when you leave?" He looked at her, curiousity stamped on his features.  
  
"Well, it would be my honor, mistress Elf. What favor could I do for you?" She took a deep breath, feeling extremely self-conscious. She mentally shook herself. There was no need to be stupid.  
  
"If-if you ever go to Lorién, could...could you..." She paused, then continued. "Could you see if their are three Elves in particular there?"  
  
"Well, an odd request. What three Elves in particular?"  
  
"Kellys and Ellywin Stillwater. Or maybe they have a new last name. And...their...father." He looked at her, sympathy flickering in his eyes, but, prudently, didn't pursue the subject. She was grateful, because as nice as he was, she didn't feel like discussing it.  
  
"I promise, if I ever go to Lorién, I will search them out. Is there a message that you would like me to pass on?" She fumbled for the right words.  
  
"Maybe, I mean, yes, I mean, I don't know..." What would she say to these figures, who had just been names in her life as far back as she could remember? Then, she took a deep breath and began again. "Yes, there is a message. Tell them that Rosellyn says hello, that I miss them, and that Rellyn is dead, if they don't know already. That's the message." The sympathy grew, but, as before, he didn't continue on the subject.  
  
"By my life and honor as a son of Gondor, if I can carry your message, I will. Thank you for trusting me with this." He bowed slightly. She followed suit.  
  
"No, sir, thank you for carrying the message. Well, I must be going. I have to see either Linka or Awaren."  
  
"Well then, I'd suggest finding Linka. Awaren is...preoccupied." She smiled, even though she'd really wanted to talk to Awaren. Awaren was the war leader, not Linka.  
  
"Thank you, sir. Good day."  
  
"Good day to you as well, miss Stillwater." As soon as he was out of sight, she took off running.  
  
She dodged around the older Elves, running as fast as she could. For some reason, Benvenue had unsettled her, however polite he had been. She could feel something chasing after her, something that wasn't Elven or Man, and she knew no matter how fast she ran, it would always find her. -Della? Any thoughts?- Silence for a moment. Then, ~Not really. It could be that you're just paranoid about Men. Even so, from my experience of Men, if they smile that much all the time, there's something to be concerned about.~ She finally stopped, chest heaving for air, outside Linka's room. Regaining composure, she knocked twice.  
  
"Come in," It was Linka's voice, smooth and mellow. Calming, too. She poked her head inside the door. Linka was combing out her hair, brown with only a few streaks of grey in there, despite the fact that she was well over 9000 years old. "Oh, hello, Rosellyn. Is there a problem?" She put down her brush and gestured for her to come in. "Sit down, we'll talk. It's obvious by your face that this is serious."  
  
"You've no idea," she said, and closed the door behind her. At Linka's prompting, she sat on the bed next to her and began to piece together her suspicions about the Riders. "You see, I've been thinking. About the whole deal with the Riders. See, they've been silent for almost a month now. How many attacks have they thrown at us in this amount of time, usually? Five, or six, I'd say. But now, there's nothing. What they should be doing is throwing small skirmishes, trying to see how well protected we are, what our strength is, and all that. Now they're not, which can mean several things.  
  
"One, that they've given up. That's not right, because our scouts say they're still camping at the edge of the forest. Two, that they know our strength, and they're building up the men and supplies to counteract that. Three, they're trying to make us feel like they've been beaten and are recuperating. That way, we get over confident. That's how I see it. Have you thought about that, am I confirming what you already know?" Linka paced around the room, lips pursed. In the light that poured through the window, she looked old for the first time that she, Rosellyn, could remember. It was just beginning to dawn that 9000 was pretty old, even for an Elf.  
  
"Well," Linka said finally, with a great sigh, "to be honest, I had not thought about that. I might just be getting old and senile, but I sincerely hoped that the Riders would stop the bloodshed."  
  
"No, you're not the only one," protested Rosellyn, "lots of Elves think that. Me, for one. I can fight, and I can kill, but that doesn't mean I want to." Linka faced her squarely, stopping her before she could launch into her idea.  
  
"I know what you are going to say next, Rosellyn.The only problem is, the Riders do not think that way. They do not think about the little children, or the mothers and wives. They only think about our alliance with the dwarves, the pristine lake and forest. They only think of the feather in their caps that conquering Mirkwood would be. They do not think about the young lives they are ruining, the Elflings not long out of childhood that are being robbed of their innocent days and turned into killers. You are mature beyond your years, Rosellyn, but not in the way I would prefer. I do not want the fighting and killing, but they must be repulsed. If that is what it takes, then that is what it takes." Rosellyn grinned in spite of herself.  
  
"Couldn't have said it better myself."  
  
A/N: Linka seems to be taking this very calmly...but are appearances all they seem? 


	11. A Glimmer of a Plan

*Disclaimer* Would you really sue a poor flu-striken teenager??? I OWN NOTHING, I TELL YOU!  
  
A/N: Satiana, thanks for that nice review; it meant a lot to me.  
  
Also, I know I haven't posted awhile, and I apologize. But I've been getting over a very nasty case of the flu that really kicked me in the you-know-where, so it would seem I have much catching up to do. But here we are, better late than never. Read on!  
  
Chapter 11- A Glimmer of a Plan  
  
Unfortunatly, Awaren didn't share her views. It made sense, he said, but he believed that he could decide the threat to his people, but thanks for your input. For the first time that she could remember, Rosellyn thought that Awaren wasn't as wise as she'd first suspected. She'd held out hope that Linka would help her cause, but all for nothing. Linka sided with her husband on the issue. It was as if someone had lifted a veil from her eyes. She saw that Awaren was a wise ruler, but a poor warlord. Linka merely followed her husband's lead, and provided a shoulder to cry on when things went wrong. But if they didn't listen, and she was adamant that she was correct, all would fall to ruin. A shoulder to cry on wouldn't cut it. Their forces might prevail, they knew their territory. But there were the niggling odds that the Riders just might overpower them, if they knew their strengths and weaknesses. And every day that Awaren didn't try to remedy the situation, the more those odds grew.  
  
For all her claims that she never had anything to do with the fighting arts in this America place she came from, Delaney had a surprisingly weighty store of knowledge about such things. She would sit in her room for hours, letting Delaney take charge and write down all she could think of to do with the current situation. All her plans were brilliant, she thought...if Awaren would listen to her. One day, after she had chased away Meira and managed to closet herself in with Tracie, Forest, and Legolas, all who agreed with her, Delaney revealed the plan she had been sitting on. ~We need to spy. Just you. Me. Whatever.~ She gave a start at that, completely thrown.  
  
"Hey, are you okay?" Her surprise had not gone unnoticed. Forest was the one who had spoken out. What were they talking about? Then, helped by Della, she recalled: they were discussing possible ways to implement Della's plans without help from Awaren. So far, they had nothing.  
  
"What? Oh, uh, I'm fine." Tracie, however, knew her friend too well to be put off track. She leaned in eagerly, face bright with anticipation.  
  
"You had an idea. I can just tell. What is it? Come on, tell." She racked her brains for an idea, one that would satisfy her friend. She finally gave up and told them Delaney's idea, sure that they would stop her.  
  
"Someone could spy on them." To her absolute shock, they nodded to themselves.  
  
"You know, you've got a point. If Awaren won't send spies, we have to." She was staring, as Forest was, at Legolas with frank astonishment. Tracie, though, was nodding in agreement. She finally found her voice.  
  
"You-you're serious, aren't you?" She said, faintly. Forest jumped in at this point, his voice about two octaves higher than normal.  
  
"Legolas, I hope you're joking! Do you realize how incredibly stupid and risky that is? We could be killed, and I don't just mean by the Riders. Awaren would banish us for life if he found out we even thought about it! Did you ever think about that? No, I don't suppose you did." Forest was always the voice of reason and caution, trying to ward off an attack. Unlike Awaren, however, he saw that the Riders were a threat. He just didn't want to fight, if it could be avoided. Legolas, on the other hand, wanted a fight from the off. He was of the opinion that the Riders should be crushed as quickly as possible, and, being all of 1,500, he was sure he could do it himself. Tracie was inclined to agree with whatever Legolas said. But Rosellyn wasn't sure where she fell. Probably somewhere between the two extremes, leaning slightly more towards the fighting side. Maybe she didn't like killing, but she found it preferrable to being killed. Legolas shrugged at Forest's sally. That was Legolas' way; he either erupted like Mount Doom or took it as calmly as news that lunch was ready.  
  
"Hey, I said it was a good idea. You got a better one, Forest?" It was perfectly quiet, perfectly serious, but Forest turned a dull red.  
  
"Here's an idea: let's try to keep ourselves alive and out of trouble!" Legolas jumped up, shedding his calm demeanor in a flash. Suddenly, he was radiating the dangerous energy Delaney had noticed about him the first time.  
  
"How about this crazy idea, Forest: we try to keep ourselves alive and out from under the thumb of the Riders!" he shouted. Forest jumped up as well, looking him straight in the eye. Rose had to hand it to Forest; pacifist he might be, but it took nerve to look Legolas directly in the eye when he was this mad.  
  
"I'd rather be under the rule of the Riders than shamed or dead!" There was a silence as both Elves stared, the anger a hot electric charge in the air around them, so palpable she could almost see it. Then, Forest backed down. He turned on his heel and slammed the door shut, without a word. It was a few moments before Legolas had controlled his anger and lowered his pulse. Finally, he took a deep breath, released it, then sat down again. It was only then that Tracie ventured to say anything.  
  
"So-so you are serious about the whole spy deal?" Rosellyn was still shaken; she had never seen Forest that angry before. Della, however, remained stoic throughout the whole thing, as though she wasn't surprised. Legolas nodded once.  
  
"Perfectly." She nudged the dormant Della, that little sensation in the back of her mind, for ideas. -Well? Any ideas? You're the one who suggested this.- Her friends saw the expression, the one that said she was thinking hard, and waited until she was ready to tell them what her brain wave was. ~Actually, I might. Do you have a map of Mirkwood somewhere? I can't work with just your memories. Let me come up.~ She allowed her friend to do so, saying out loud as she did,  
  
"Here, let's go the map on my desk."  
  
Actually, the map was tacked up on the wall; Delaney took it down and surveyed it, talking out loud as she drew from Rose's memories of the enemy's position.  
  
"Now then, according to the reports we've been getting from the scouts around, there's a camp here," she laid a pink, polished pebble on the west side of the forest, "by the pass, where they got here to put the black steel in the water," another pebble was laid down. And so on. When she was finished, twelve pebbles roughly surrounded the forest. In a businesslike way, she took out a quill pen and a bottle of ink and started marking the strength of each camp, as of their last report. Delaney thought fast, mind working furiously, writing slowly to buy her some time. She'd been playing Zelda for far too long not to be able to work her way out of this situation with flying colors! But this wasn't a video game. She didn't have another life if she failed. The first time had to work, or...or...she didn't like to think about that. No level ups, no extra life if you gather all the crystals. No nothing. Fast fingers and cheat codes wouldn't avail her in the slightest here; in war, the only law was Darwin's, the only rule was the sword. What I wouldn't give for an AK-47, some land mines, and the National Guard, she thought.  
  
"Do you really have an idea?" asked Tracie, always critical. Delaney nodded her head slowly, mind going a million miles a minute.  
  
"Yeah...but I don't think it's a very realistic one..." Legolas brushed her misgivings away impatiently.  
  
"We're already on thin ice. Just tell us the plan, and we'll be the judge of whether it's stupid or not." She sighed and dipped the quill pen again.  
  
"Right. Here goes." She circle the pebbles in sets of fours. "Legolas: you, Tracie, and I will split up and scout out these sets of four camps. Write down any unusual cargo or machinery, take a head count, see how many, if any, reinforcements and supplies are coming in. That sort of thing. But..." She paused, wondering what her friends were thinking. Their faces betrayed nothing. "My hold back is that we have no back up. If one of us gets hurt, the others will never know, and they won't be there to help. Tracie and I have already made pretty good cases for the buddy system." As she mentioned this, the scars in her chest gave involuntary twinges. They always did whenever it was about to rain. Tracie examined the plan with pursed lips. Then she finally spoke.  
  
"In theory, the plan's a good one. With a few tweaks, we can make it a great one in practice." They both instinctively looked at Legolas. He appeared to be doing some serious thinking. Finally, he looked up, and seemed slightly surprised that they were all looking at him.  
  
"Oh! You want my opinion?" They looked at him like the answer was obvious.  
  
"Uh, yeah...you're only the most war-literate among any of us!" snapped Delaney. Tracie nodded in agreement. He strode over to the front of the map and leaned over it, palms on the desk. Then, he nodded.  
  
"Yeah. Tracie's right. And so are you, Rosellyn. We can't go alone. So here's what I say. We go in pairs, with one of us staying behind every time. Like so," He picked up the quill and scrawled their names on each group of four. "Now. Rose and Tracie. Tracie and me. Rosellyn and me. Oh dear..." Tracie leaped in with a quick solution to the problem of uneven groups.  
  
"On the last one, we all go!" Delaney inwardly marveled at Tracie's tone. She reminded her of Ed, from the anime T.V. show Cowboy Be-Bop. Tracie, with her red hair and voice perky and high from excitement, bared an uncanny resemblance to the cartoon character. Legolas nodded in agreement, not even blinking at her tone.  
  
"Works for me. When do we start?" That was all; they sat down around her desk, and the real plotting began.  
  
A/N: Devious little teenagers... but how well will these plans go? Maybe not as well as they'd like. 


	12. Into the Enemy Camps

*Disclaimer* I. OWN. NOTHING.  
  
A/N: Ya'll are doing a great job reviewing, and I appreciate the feedback. Keep it up! Read on!  
  
Chapter 12-Into the Enemy Camps  
  
Delaney was satisfied with the work they had accomplished that afternoon. After Dam came and rounded them up, she took a second glance over the plans, truly pleased at how well they turned out. It was neatly done, on paper. But so many things could go wrong in real life...she stubbornly pushed the awful mental images that sprang up away. They were Elves, weren't they? That meant a distinct advantage over all of their human opponents. Swift, silent, deadly fighters, even at their teens. But the humans could be better. They would just have to use all the subterfuge skills they had. It sounded so easy; could they, three teenage Elves, really pull it off?  
  
Delaney cursed Legolas for making her go first. Even if it was with Tracie, she wanted to wait and see what happened first, before she was volunteered to go sneak into an enemy camp. Well, she couldn't say they were badly equipped. They had their knives, full quivers and bows, traveling lembas, parchment, quills and ink, and rope. When asked why the rope was there, Delaney merely shrugged and replied,  
  
"For dangerous missions, you always need rope." Everyone present shrugged as well and conceded that this was more or less true. The rope stayed.  
  
Two days later, around midnight, the three of them were clustered on the outskirts of the valley. Legolas wished them good luck, double-checked the return plans, then slipped away, as silently as a shadow. Even through her apprehension, Delaney felt a stab of jealousy. Well, she looked on the bright side; even the clumsiest Elf could walk more silently than a short, overweight human. She looked at Tracie and nodded. They set off at a fast pace, into the surrounding forest, towards imminent peril.  
  
They were silent for the duration of the hike. Tracie, like herself, must have felt that the slightest whisper would bring the enemy down on them from the trees. Finally, after an hour of walking, Tracie broke the silence.  
  
"Hey, let's take a quick break. My feet are killing me," she whispered. Delaney felt fine, but she agreed and they stopped for a five minute breather anyway. Then, with unspoken mutual consent, they stood up and continued on.  
  
Two hours later, they saw the first signs of enemy camp: firelight. They slowed down and retreated back.  
  
"Now what?" hissed Tracie, "this was your idea, let's hear it." Delaney frowned for a moment. There was a strange sensation in the back of her head. Rose was saying something, but it was too quiet, almost...fading. Then she shook her head to clear it.  
  
"Okay, we'll split up and do this. You take the west, I'll take the east. Do a headcount, and add whatever you think is relevant. We got this far, so let's do it!" Tracie grinned, if a bit of a strained one. Then, they split up with a hastily whispered "Good luck!" Delaney trekked east, silent as a shadow. She crept up, so close she could have poked the mercenary sleeping by the shrubbery she used as cover. Silently, she counted the sleeping soldiers as quickly as she could. Other than that, there was nothing of importance. There weren't any incoming caravans; there were several small tents, but mostly the soldiers slept in open air. Then, just as she was about to turn and go back to meet Tracie, something shattered the peaceful night. She heard her friend's unmistakably musical voice cry out, panicky,  
  
"Ta naa neuma!" What? She didn't understand anything! The faded sensation of Rose in her head grew. -Rose! What's happening?!- Her voice was quiet, as if from far away. ~I can't hear you...so far away...pull me back! Quick!~ Delaney wasted precious moments mentally pulling her friend back from wherever she was slipping. Suddenly, Tracie's warning hit her as a lot more dire. It was a trap! She unsheathed Trustworthy clumsily and whirled around, just as a fighter dived for her.   
  
Rosellyn surged back from the depths of mental blackness like one of Legolas' arrows, shooting into control so fast she almost got whiplash. She finished the Man with a slash, Trustworthy and then Diamondsong flashing in the night like chain lightining. She looked around, quickly assessing the situation. There were too many; she had to get to Tracie, and then get away. Felling a particularly stupid soldier and ducking under another's sword, she jumped and grabbed for an overhanging branch. -Here. I was just getting you out of there.- It felt like Delaney was smiling.  
  
"He's climbing away! Someone with a bow! Don't just gawp, shoot him, shoot him!" Annoyed, Delaney leapt like a cat from branch to branch, higher and higher. She could climb; desperate to get her excersize, her mother had taken her to a rock-climbing gym, where she fell in love with the sport. She climbed to what she deemed was a safe height and looked down at the blind Men. Then, she took the hat from her head and stuffed it in her belt, shaking her hair free. Taking advantage of the silence that ensued and leapt to another tree. Then, to another, higher and away. No time to go around to where Tracie was; she'd have to hope her friend had gotten away safely to the meeting spot.  
  
She did, bringing, just as Delaney was, an entourage of enemy soldiers. And she, like Delaney, decided to do a monkey impression.  
  
"Come on," shouted Delaney, making sure that Rosellyn was still in the back of her mind, safe and sound. "We can route them to the other site. Move north! Now!" Tracie smiled, and Delaney made a quick check. She was unhurt, as was Tracie.  
  
"Did you get a count?" she asked nonchalantly, as if they weren't leaping from tree to tree, dodging arrows and being chased by Men. Delaney ducked a leaf-flighted arrow before answering.  
  
"Roughly two hundred soldiers on my side. How about you?"  
  
"More of the same. Maybe about fifty more. Watch your left!" Delaney grabbed the arrow in question and lobbed it back at the mob below, rewarded by a faint cry and a curse. Now that she was paying attention, she realized that the soldiers were yelling insults at them. She marveled at listening to Tracie speak; until Rosellyn had almost gotten ripped away, she never noticed how she heard two languages at the same time. She heard it in Elvish with her ears, but her mind converted it to English. When she spoke, the same thing happened. She decided to try it out again. She yelled to the soldiers below:  
  
"Lle n'vanima ar'lle atara lenneina!" Or, 'You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny.' Those that knew Elven roared with anger and she heard several snatches of shouts. She laughed like a maniac and pushed on. A mile later, she saw the next camp. Like a charm, the two camps clashed. By the time they realized they were fighting each other, the two girls were away like the wind.  
  
They made it back to Wanderer's Glade a little bit after dawn. Tracie collapsed by the lake with a sigh, watching the early sunlight cast patterns of glittering diamonds on the water's surface. Rosellyn did the same, glad to get off her feet. Even if the soldiers knew where they were heading, their orders were to stay clear of any Elven civilazation; they could stew about it, but they would have to obey. Besides, they were long gone by the time the two camps started fighting each other; two running Elves were almost impossible to detect unless you were another Elf. Legolas ran out to meet them about twenty minutes later, afire with a morbid, teenage-like curiousity.  
  
"So, what have you got?" Rosellyn glared at him.  
  
"A side cramp and a headache. You?" He laughed, evidently not realizing the snappish mood his friends were in.  
  
"I'm sorry. Did you get a headcount or not? I mean, have we got a prayer of overthrowing these guys or what? Did they have any terrible machines of destruction that spells annihilation for Mirkwood? Come on, don't leave me hanging!" Now it was Tracie's turn to bite his head off, and she did so admirably.  
  
"If we ever leave you hanging, Greenleaf, it'll be by a rope from a tree. Will you please give it a rest?!" Something in Tracie's tone caused him to back up a bit, thoroughly chastened. But only for a moment. After all, HE hadn't been running and dodging arrows all night, had he?  
  
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll wait till you're feeling better." He sat down in front of them. "Feeling better?"  
  
"NO!" Came the immediate response. He admitted defeat and took the task upon himself to search their knapsacks, keeping up a running commentary that only added to her bad mood.  
  
"Hm, your ink bottle spilled, Trace, you should have recapped it better. Same with you, Rose. Where are your pens, did you lose those too? Sheesh. Look, you didn't eat any of your lembas, no wonder you're all wiped out. You want to spy, you better eat, you know. Where's your papers? I assume that since you lost your pens and spilled the ink that you had to at least write something down. Wait, is it in this pocket? No, it's empty. Boy, these things are beat up. Looks like you started attacking it with a knife. Actually, this looks more like arrows. Dull arrows. But if it was arrows, the angle of this suggests you'd have to be above the shooter. Poor quality steel, by the fraying of it. Well, are you going to explain any of this, or not? I'm not Galadriel, I can't read your mind, but wouldn't that be cool? I always thought that-"  
  
"Are you finished yet?" asked Tracie tartly.  
  
"Yeah, stop and breathe every once in awhile," added Rose. He sighed, the picture of patience, and set the knapsacks down.  
  
"Ready when you are," he said. Tracie looked at Rosellyn, grinned, and stood up, stretching laboriously.  
  
"You know, we're really wiped out...I think we'll be ready, oh, tomorrow. G'night, Greenleaf." Rosellyn followed suit.  
  
"I agree. Time to hit the hay. See you tomorrow morning." Then they picked up their sacks and began to walk away. He moved like lightning and dodged in front of them.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Will you PLEASE tell me what the situtation is?"  
  
"Hm, what do you think, Trace? Should we tell him?"  
  
"Gee, I dunno. He's been awfully unsenstive to our plight."  
  
"You're right. See ya." Legolas looked like he was about to go crazy.  
  
"No! Don't go, come on, no one could be that cruel! Do you see this face, how can you say no to this face?" He put on his best puppy dog face, hoping to break them. Tracie laughed and sat down.  
  
"Well, since you put it that way, how could we refuse? Come on, we'll show you what we got." They dug the papers with the figures on them out of their pockets and put them on display. He looked at them shrewdly.  
  
"Only about four hundred in the camp? I don't know, guys. Awaren might be right; how could this many pose much of a threat?"  
  
"Hey, just because two camps had this much doesn't mean there aren't uncounted billions in the other ten. Besides, they are a lot smarter than we take them for." Tracie went on to explain how they had gotten themselves in the middle of the enemy force. "Kind of hard to tell in the heat of battle, but there was a lot more than four hundred. Then again, there's probably a little less, now." Legolas laughed as she described the chaos that the mixing of the camps had brought.  
  
"Pretty good battle tactics, you two! You make a pretty good pair."  
  
"So glad you think so. Did anyone notice we were gone?" Legolas shrugged unconcernedly.  
  
"Not as far as I know. But they WILL get kind of suspicious if they find us all down here, with you two looking like you just tripped into a thorn shrub." She smiled wryly; that was probably a pretty accurate description of how they looked right about now. But she saw his point and hurried on.  
  
"They were basically your standard war camps, but the warlord obviously wasn't there. I'm thinking that we be a little more on our guard the next time, and search in a wider perimeter around each camp, see the whole picture. Maybe even risk walking through the camps, to see what we can see, you know?" They both nodded.  
  
"Sounds good. Who's going tonight?" Tracie stood and stretched.  
  
"You and me, Greenleaf. Guess that means I better get my rest today. Okay, can we meet at your house today, Legolas? We can't do it at my house for obvious reasons, and someone's going to know something's up if we keep plotting at Rose's. Besides, at your flet we don't run the risk of small ears eavesdropping."  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me. After lunch sometime. Now go before anyone misses you." They nodded and ran to their own respective homes, Rose sneaking in her bedroom window about half an hour before Dam usually checked on her. She hastily changed into her nightgown and slipped into bed. Even though she hadn't felt any exhaustion because of adrenaline, the second she hit the pillow she was out like a light.   
  
A/N: Adrenaline will do that to you...let's hope Legolas and Tracie have better luck with their mission! 


	13. Rosellyn as a Tour Guide

*Disclaimer* ::sigh:: See other chapters. That way, you expend energy and I don't.  
  
A/N: SOrry this was a bit late, and a bit short. But I'm posting TWO chapters today, so don't complain. Read on!  
  
Chapter 13- Rosellyn as a Tour Guide  
  
"Rosie! Rosie! Mommy says to wake up! Quick!" Rose dragged herself from the warm blankets of sleep reluctantly. "Rosie! Oh, Rosie, hurry!" She snapped awake.  
  
"What? What is it, Ellie? What's wrong?" She asked, shaking her little friend off her and swinging out of bed. Eleria looked nervous and excited, all at the same time.  
  
"Mommy says there's someone who wants to see you. It's a Man!" she giggled nervously. "He looks so old, but Mommy says he's younger than me. It's funny, isn't it? Come on. He's in the main balcony." Why would Benvenue try to visit her? It struck her as sort of odd. Nevertheless, she changed into pants, and a long shirt, belting it with a supple leather belt that held both her knives and her belt pouch. Standard clothes she wore to weapon's lessons. It was a casual dress, but an intimidating statement. 'I wear this as nonchalantly as anything, and I can use them on you with just as much indifference.' Then, double checking herself again in the mirror, she walked outside.  
  
He was leaning against the balcony, looking at the fabulous view it provided. He looked up when he saw her coming, and she felt Della pushing at the back of her mind. ~Let me deal with him, please. We have a lot in common, you know?~ She saw the sense in that. Let the race of Man deal with the race of Man. With the now-familiar sensation, she receded and felt Della push up.  
  
Delaney walked forward with all the calm collection that Rosellyn possessed. She put a smile on, and, creepy feeling or not, she liked Benvenue.  
  
"Well, hello there, Rosellyn. I hope you don't find me too presumptous, visiting you like this. But Miss Linka said I was fit to leave her house, and I remembered your kindness to a stranger down on his luck, so I decided that this would be the first place I visited. It took awhile to convince Awaren to tell me where you lived; they were still a touch nervous, you see. Don't fret, though; I feel perfectly fine." Delaney experienced the strange and unpredictable sensation of Rose speaking through her, even though she, Delaney, was in control.  
  
"You're a Ranger, aren't you?" What on Earth was a Ranger? She didn't know what a Ranger was! Quickly, Rose filled her in on everything that she was obviously missing. Benvenue gave a half-smile.  
  
"Good eye, miss, though how you knew, I'll never guess. You are correct, more's the pity. I should have known I couldn't keep anything from you Elves. Would you mind terribly if I asked you for a tour of Mirkwood? I'd love to meet your friends." How could she say no? Should she say no? ~Go ahead. We can deal with anything if tries something funny. Besides, Tracie's always saying how she wants to see a Man. Say yes.~ -Gotcha-.  
  
"I'd love to show you around! My friend Tracie had always wanted to meet someone from the race of Man. You and Legolas should get along great; he's a fighter like you. Forest...well...unless you're an intellectual goon, he's not your type."  
  
"Are you?" he inquired.  
  
"Am I what?"  
  
"An intellectual goon." She smiled, wrinkling up her nose in amusement.  
  
"In the barest sense of the term. Mostly we share the same sense of humor. Most of the time," she added as an after thought. He smiled amusedly.  
  
"Then I'm sure he's a fine Elf." She poked her head inside the door, wondering if he was flirting with her or not. Delaney had no experience in that department.  
  
"Dam! I'll be out for awhile!"  
  
"Fine by me, honey. No, Meira, I'm sure she doesn't want you to accompany her. You too, Ellie. Come on." She smiled, thinking about how much Meira would love to tease her about this. She closed the door and turned to Benvenue.  
  
"Shall we go? Tracie and Forest are closest; they're twins, by the way, and please don't ask who's older." He assured her that she wouldn't and they went down the steps, chatting about innocent topics, Delaney interrupting every now and then to point out something that she thought the Ranger would find interesting. Maybe I should be a tour guide when I grow up, she thought, I'm getting plenty of practice here.  
  
Tracie's eyes went wider than dinner plates when she answered the door and saw her best friend standing there with a wide grin on her face next to a Man.  
  
"Oh. Eru. Hello." Then she turned behind her. "Forest! Get down here NOW!" There was a thumping as he ran down the stairs.  
  
"All right, Trace, what's got your skirts in a bunch THIS ti- oh. Eru. Hello." Benvenue gave his shy sort of grin, probably because of the twin reactions they gave.  
  
"My name is Benvenue Haltier, a Ranger from the country of Gondor." Tracie tripped on her skirts walking up and holding out her hand.  
  
"Hello, uh, Benvenue. I'm Traceheart Forestwood, but please call me Tracie. Are you really a Man?" She asked stupidly. He smiled and tucked his longish straggly black hair behind a shell-shaped ear, not pointy.  
  
"Indeed, you've found me out. I assume this is your brother?" Forest nodded, composure back after his initial shock.  
  
"Correct. My name is Tracehelm Forestwood, but everyone calls me Forest." Just as she predicted, the twins quickly befriended the Ranger. He was a very personable fellow; no one could resist him once he put his charm on. And, as Tracie evidently thought, he was passably good looking, if you liked the tall-dark-and-handsome type. Personally, she liked the tall-blonde-and-handsome type, herself. They happily agreed to accompany Benvenue and herself on an impromptu tour of Wanderer's Glade. For the first time, she could get her mind off of the Riders and their impending threat and just concentrate on being a teenager. She relished the look of comic surprise on Thranduil Greenleaf's face when he saw his son's best friends standing with a Man. Nevertheless, he allowed Legolas to go with them, and she spent the happiest day she had in a long time, as did the rest of her friends. At the end of the day, Benvenue walked her home in the fast-fading twilight.  
  
"Thank you for letting me show you around; you really helped us remember happier times," she said, standing at the base of the flet stairs. He shook his head sadly.  
  
"No, no, thank YOU. It is a sad thing indeed when the young are dragged into war and strife, even more so when they must be reminded to act their age. It was my pleasure. Good night, Rosellyn, I am already later than I promised Linka I would be. I hope to see you again soon." She smiled.  
  
"I'd like that. Good night, Benvenue." He turned and walked away, and she wandered back up the stairs. She said her good-nights to Dam, Ellie, and Meira, then got ready and flopped into bed.  
  
A/N: As mentioned before, a bit short. But, again, as mentioned before, you're getting TWO chapters. So quit yer whinin'. 


	14. Why You Should ALWAYS Pay Attention on S...

*Disclaimer* If I said I owned anything, what would you do about it, huh, punk?  
  
A/N: See, here's another! And it's long! Yay! Read on!  
  
Chapter 14-Why You Should ALWAYS Pay Attention on Sentry Duty  
  
She slept later than she meant to; Tracie and Legolas had to come wake her up, and they did so by climbing through the balcony and sitting on her.  
  
"Don't you want to know what happened on the spy mission? Boy, do I feel ever so unloved by my friend since, uh, birth!" said Tracie, bouncing on her happily. She shoved her off and threw on a robe.  
  
"Oh, shut up. There. I'm awake, are you happy? By the way, Trace, thanks ever so for bringing Legolas into my bedroom while I was sleeping. I'll treasure that always." Legolas blushed scarlet, she was amused to see. Tracie grinned happily, also enjoying the look of silly embarrassment on their friend's face. He tried to continue as if nothing had happened. Then gave up, as it was obvious that he couldn't keep his composure.  
  
"Yes. Well, uh, sorry, I mean...yes. Spying. On the enemy. We figured that...that..." Then he sat down in defeat. He couldn't talk anymore in this state. She shoved Tracie out of the way and walked into her closet.  
  
"I'm getting dressed. Tell me when his face returns to its normal color." Which didn't help matters in the slightest. Della must have really been rubbing off on her. Nevertheless, she walked into her closet-slash-changing room, wondering what she wanted to wear today: dress or tunic? Before the Riders arrived, this was the only thing she had to worry about. It felt nice to return to even a small semblance of normalcy. For some reason, she felt extremely self-virtuous today (perhaps a result of having Legolas in her bedroom), and decided to go with a gown. She chose one that was artfully swirled in the colors of the ocean (so it was said. She had never actually seen the ocean), and looked all flowy, like someone had taken the ocean and made it into a dress. Which was exactly the point of it all. She slipped into it and ran a brush quickly through her hair, which had been painfully swirled into a rat's nest while she slept. Then she poked her head out, and saw that Legolas's pallor had returned to normal.  
  
"Good to see you. Now then, I hope you didn't botch this as much as Tracie and I did. What did you find?" Legolas rummaged around in his knapsack and pulled out a sheet of parchment. She swiped it from him and hastily scanned the sloppy scrawl.  
  
"Hmm, what's the translation of this supposed to be?" He smiled and leaned over her shoulder and pointed out things.  
  
"Please, my handwriting isn't THAT awful. See, this is just some quick head count...a few doodles when I got bored...and there's the final count." She squinted bemusedly at it.  
  
"Nope. Still can't read it. What's the final count?" He snatched the paper from her, distinctly annoyed. He snatched it back and examined it.  
  
"You really can't read that?" She sighed.  
  
"Legolas Greenleaf, I'm surprised YOU can read this. Trace, can you please help me out with this?" Tracie grinned and elbowed Legolas out of the way.  
  
"What the stunted Nazgul here is trying to say is that we got to all three of the camps. The one that was closest to the ones we looked at was the smallest, only fifty or so. The others were pretty medium sized. It's odd, though; there's nothing. They have to have a reserve hidden somewhere, because they can't hope to attack us if their numbers are all like this. Well, tonight's your turn, Stillwater, you and Greenleaf here." Rose instinctively fingered her hairpin, then stopped as she realized what she was doing. Tracie smiled slightly, but said nothing. Rose put her hand down and shooed them out.  
  
"Good to know. See you tonight, Legolas. Hopefully not in my bedroom. See you this afternoon, Tracie. Out, out, both of you out." Legolas obeyed immediately, perhaps because of the barb about her bedroom. Tracie, however, hung back.  
  
"Are you sure you don't WANT him in your-ow!" Rose smacked her on the head sharply. Tracie backed away, rubbing her scalp.  
  
"Out, before I toss you out myself!" she said. It was mutually agreed that they were both joking, but Tracie put on the injured-pride look anyway.  
  
"Well, that's the last time I spy for you! Anyway, maybe if you toss me out, Greenleaf will catch me at the bottom." Rose grinned cheerfully.  
  
"Good, let's try that, shall we?" Tracie smiled and started to climb down.  
  
"All right, all right, I give up. See you later." And she was gone. Groaning, she flopped on her bed, wishing she could fall asleep again, even though she knew it was pointless to try. Legolas Greenleaf had just snuck out of her bedroom; how on earth was she going to sleep? Speaking of Earth...Delaney slid up and found the sheafs of parchment that Linka had sent over and began where she left off. Helen was going to work at an office building. It seemed so everyday to her, but Rose found this a perpetual source of fascination. Just the clothes and pavement of everyday life in suburbia were completely foreign and amazing to her.   
  
Finally, when it was almost completely light, she stepped outside. She usually come and went as she pleased; Dam gave her an unusual amount of leniency when it came to her activites. It was not that Dam thought she would complain if restrictions were given...she had come to understand that everything the Elf-wife did was for her own good, and she would obey without question...but that Damita believed that she would evolve and develop better if she was allowed more freedom than even her mother had given her. She held the same policy for Meira and Ellie, but so far the two Elflings hadn't fully realized what freedom entailed. Meira was mostly training with her weapons, and Ellie spent most of her days clinging to Dam and trying, in her own way, to help her mother with housework. Rose smiled as she pictured the two girls who had become as close to her as if they were truly her blood sisters. These innocent faces were why she was so defiant of Awaren's ruling, and why she was risking her life to stop the seemingly imminent apocalypse of her people.  
  
That night, she had a high case of nerves that had nothing to do with walking into an enemy camp, which was about as safe as stepping into a cage of rabid hyenas with hamburger patties attatched to her face. No, it was the fact that she, Delaney Glenn Freeholder, was going to go into said enemy camp in the company of Legolas Greenleaf, the hottest guy she had ever met, not to mention the smartest. And that included Forest, the lovingly dubbed 'intellectual goon'. What also might have contributed was the fact that she came home at twilight and found that Benvenue had been asking after her again. It piqued her, that the Man should be so interested in her. Well, he was technically interested in Rose, but while she was in command of the body, it was her as far as she was concerned. She waited at the edge of the valley, the prearranged meeting spot, and bounced on the balls of her feet nervously. She sincerely hoped they wouldn't run into another tight spot like Tracie and she had; that was a nightmare. Speaking of nightmares...she checked the mental presence that was Rose in the back of her head. She couldn't afford to let her fade away again, or she would really be in a tight spot. No amount of skill could save her if she suddenly didn't understand a word Legolas was saying. Rose was still strong. Reassured, she relaxed. Then tensed up and stifled a shriek as a hand from nowhere descended and landed upon her shoulder.  
  
Benvenue chuckled lightly at her shock.  
  
"My, you're jumpy tonight, miss Rosellyn. What are you doing out so late? And packed for a journey, I see. What escapade are you planning now?" She jerked away from his hand irritably. If Legolas didn't show up soon...  
  
"No disrespect, sir, but I don't see how any of this concerns you." His eyes filled with genuine anxiety. Any other time, she might have felt touched. Now, she just felt annoyed. Why wouldn't he just leave?  
  
"You're not running away, are you?" The idea! She straightened in indignation.  
  
"Think what you like of me, but I don't run and leave my friends in times of battles. Speaking of friends, there he is now. If you'll excuse me, Benvenue, I bid you goodnight." While she had been speaking, her adrenaline-sharpened eyesight picked out Legolas approaching, and she dodged behind Benvenue and followed him into the surrounding woodlands, doing her best to blend into the night shadows. Here she was, an Elf maiden walking into the forest, dressed and packed for a journey, in the company of a young Elf boy. Let him eat that and choke on it!  
  
As soon as she caught up with Legolas, though, her complacency dispersed and she was suddenly afraid for her life. He swung a punch at her, which she narrowly missed, and she jumped onto a low-hanging branch. When he jumped up, she stamped on his fingers, causing him to drop.  
  
"By the grace of Valar, what was that for?" she demanded angrily. He nursed his fingers, looking equally miffed.  
  
"What are you playing at, letting that Man talk to you when you're about to go on a spying mission?" She climbed a little higher and eyed his bow, in case he got ideas.  
  
"I didn't exactly invite him, you know! He just showed up. It's not like I'm just going to blow off the salvation of my home, okay?"  
  
"But he knows we're going somewhere! What if he knows where we're going?"  
  
"I didn't tell him, and Men can't read minds! Don't get yourself worked up over nothing! Maybe he just thinks...I don't know..."  
  
"Well, I don't know either! What if he tells someone that we're leaving for the night? What then? Then they'll definetely know, and it all gets put down, and Mirkwood gets annihilated. You've got to think about these things!"  
  
"Do you actually hear yourself when you speak? I'm not some Angmar, what was I supposed to do, make him disappear?" The glared at each other for a few moments, then she hopped down. "Look, if he thinks he knows where we're going, well and good for him. There's nothing we can do about it but try to get a good night's spying in. Okay? Or do you want to just turn around now and tell Tracie to forget the whole idea, and to tell Forest that he was right, and we should just trust to Linka and Awaren?" She was playing off his pride, she knew that. But it was the only thing she knew that could make him drop a conversation topic. By the look on his face, he knew exactly what she was doing, as well. Would he let it work? After a few moments, he backed down.  
  
"All right. I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do about it. Let's go. We're wasting time." And she knew that was the best she'd get out of him.  
  
They set off in silence, but it was not the companiable silence between herself and Tracie, but a stiff, unfriendly one that made her squirm uncomfortably. They hiked west, and she felt a stitch develop, but she knew better than complain. Finally, to her ultimate surprise, Legolas was the one to break the silence. She was pleased that he had gotten over a wounded ego so quickly.  
  
"I'm sorry I was over-reacting back there. It wasn't your fault."  
  
"Thanks. Apology accepted." A thought drifted up in her mind, perhaps prompted by Delaney. What if Legolas was so angry because he was...jealous? No. She needed to concentrate on the job at hand. But now that the ice was broken, they chatted in whispers while they walked, which was a million times better than the silence.  
  
"What's the total so far of the Riders' forces?" She rummaged around in her pack. Pulling out a piece of parchment, she perused it hastily.  
  
"Hm, two, four, six, seven...eight or nine hundred, give or take a few." Legolas looked slightly worried at the tally.  
  
"And how many Elves do we have on our side?"  
  
"Hm, two thousand? But they aren't ready for an attack, or anything. Armed, yes, good, you know it. But the Riders' ploy is working. They're lulling Awaren into a false sense of security."  
  
"Hey, they haven't hoodwinked us, right? How about that? We'll do this somehow, Rose. Don't worry. I suppose it's too much to hope that Awaren sent out for reinforcements from Lorién?" She snorted derisively.  
  
"Right, and Meira suddenly sprouted wings and flew to Mordor." He laughed at the mental picture.  
  
"You're right. I thought so." They continued on, voices lowering ever so slightly as the night wore on, instinctively getting ready for imminent danger; Legolas fingered his bow, and she started checking her knives more and more frequently. Learning from her experiences with Tracie, she started checking for scouts earlier than she normally would have. Apparently, she hadn't been checking hard enough, because she nearly did an oh-so-attractive flip over Legolas' arm as he flung it out to stop her progress. He flung himself flat on the ground, and she followed suit. He pointed at a tree about a hundred yards in front of them. "Right there. Thank Valar for the full moon. Can you see him?" he hissed as quietly as he could. She squinted. Then, she had him. In the lower canopy of a stately oak, she saw the silhoutte of a Man crouched there, waiting. Legolas was right; if it hadn't been for the full moon, they might have missed him altogether. "Look for more. I'll take care of him." She obeyed, wondering if he could make the shot from that distance and this position. She slowly surveyed the surrounding forest, checking the ground and the treetops. There were two more, that she could see. She pointed them out.  
  
"There, to the west, on the ground, and a couple yards to the east of the first fellow in the higher part of a sycamore."  
  
"Gotcha. Are they looking this way, do you think?"  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine." He looked thoughtful, then pulled out three arrows and stuck them point first into the ground next to him. Then he unshouldered his bow and strung it.  
  
"I'll risk it. Hand them to me as I go, okay?" she nodded as he stood and quickly plucked the first one out of the soft earth. Aiming quickly, he shot and immediately grabbed the one she was holding out for him. Before the first sentry hit the ground, the second arrow was in the air, quickly followed by the third. Then, they were all down. "Are you sure there's no one else?" She nodded and stood.  
  
"Pretty sure. Shall we?" He bowed, like he was holding a door for her.  
  
"We shall. After you." She curtsied as best she could in a shirt and walked daintily forward. Using all the skill they had, they moved like shadows through the trees, always keeping an eye out for more sentries. This is living, she thought, out in the wild, one step ahead of the enemy...There was a shout to the left of them.  
  
"Teldo! Hey, Teldo! What, are you sleeping on duty?" There was a flitting black figure who, in spite of his apparent stupidity in shouting aloud, knew his stealth lessons well, moving much to quickly and never pausing long enough for Legolas to get a shot in edgewise. Rose paled. Once the lone sentry figured out Teldo and his two companions were dead, their element of surprise was lost.  
  
"I think you missed him," said Legolas dryly, breaking into a run. She followed. If they got close enough, she might just be able to run down the lone sentry and dispose of him. Trustworthy flashed out into her left hand. Legolas glanced back. "Put it up! You don't want him to see that he's got company, do you?" Defiantly, Diamondsong appeared in her right hand, as though conjured there.  
  
"He'll know he's got company, if he doesn't already; the least we can do is come calling." The bravery in her ribald comment was lost on the Elf-prince, who merely sighed and pulled out his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. As she caught up to him, she realized he was talking to himself.  
  
"Come on, you, be still for one blest second, and I've got you..." He stopped suddenly, nocked his arrow quickly, and took a shot.  
  
He missed by a fraction. It was so close, though, that it took a lock of hair off the shell-shocked man, who was clearly not expecting an attack. An idea gripped Delaney and she acted through Rose. She took out a homemade slingshot and groped around on the ground for some pebbles. Nothing of great killing power; more for confusion and discomfort than anything. Not even bothering to aim, she shot off three in quick succession, only one actually glancing a stinging blow on the poor guy's forehead. Completely bewildered, he drew a well-polished sword.  
  
"Who's there? I'm warning you, I'll fight to the death!" Three more rocks; one bounced off his exposed blade. "If you're part o' an Elven army, y'll pay for the killin' of three Riders!" No response. The man wasn't too bright; any other soldier should have run for reinforcements. It would have been all too easy for Legolas to drop the idiot where he stood, but Rose wasn't quite ready to give up her fun. She pushed his bow down and gestured to his own slingshot.  
  
"This should be amusing. Did you and Tracie have this trouble?" He sighed and pulled out his slingshot, better made than Rose's was.  
  
"Some, but not nearly of this magnitude." Delaney gave an inward sigh.  
  
"Well, I guess I'm just lucky like that. If he thinks there's an army, we will give him an army." Legolas gave a slow grin at that.  
  
"Did I ever tell you that I love the way you think?" She didn't say anything, but merely grinned by way of reply. She had never heard a boy say the words 'I', 'love', and 'you' in the same sentence talking to her, even if it was sort of disjointed in her case.  
  
The scout seemed relaxed, confidently thinking, perhaps, that he had frightened the 'army' away. He sheathed his sword, satisfied, and began to stroll back to camp, fabricating the story as he went.  
  
"There were two score hidden in the woods, so I sez to Teldo, 'Teldo,' sez I, 'we must get into a circle, to have each other's backs!' I never knew I could think so well under pressure! Ol' Teldo saw sense in that, and so did Kili and Doderic. So we gets into a circle, and they rushed us! But I drew my sword and took down two, watching the others take them down as well. Then an Elf, a ferocious looking chappie, breaks away and comes at me with a sword as big as an orc's! I parried for me life and slew the feller, but the rest went down by a weasly little bowman. So I backs into a tree and takes down five more..." And on it went. He was so preoccupied with his imagined heroics that he took no notice of the two friends sitting half-concealed next to him.  
  
"Can I please drop him? Stupid bloke; I couldn't miss from this range if I wanted to." She sighed in exasperation and stole his quiver.  
  
"For the last time, weasly bowman, no. We need him to lead us to his camp! Then we have fun on a larger scale. Plus, it saves us the work of stumbling blindly through enemy territory." He stole the quiver back.  
  
"Give me that, ferocious looking chappie! Enemy territory, my eye; we're still in Mirkwood!" She stood and started following the lone sentry, who was still wrapped up in his little fantasy land.  
  
"Good. Care to raise your voice and test that theory? I know we just agreed to do a quick head count, but that doesn't mean we can't make life miserable for them." He looked annoyed, but lowered his voice anyway.  
  
"Any other time I'd agree, but this soldier just grates on my nerves. Him, slaying how many is it now, thirty, thirty five?" He gave a snort at how plausible he though that was. "Ha! He couldn't slay his way to breakfast." She elbowed him sharply.  
  
"That may be true, and that may not be true; let's not shout about it and find out, shall we?" He stopped, looking highly affronted.  
  
"I'm whispering, not shouting! Honestly, I was quieter the first time, wasn't I? You women are so picky...ow!" She had stopped her progress, roughly elbowing him again as he began walking. However, he hadn't exactly been paying attention to the fact that she was no longer moving, and walked straight into her waiting elbow. She had gone along with it in the beginning, but now he was getting more annoying than the sentry. She whirled on him before he had a chance to complain yet again and started quietly berating him, prodding his chest with her finger to emphasize her point. Startled, he moved back every time she prodded him until he was backed up against a tree.  
  
"Listen up, and listen hard. I have had it up to here," she made a slashing gesture at her throat, "with you keeping up a constant commentary every time that Man sneezes, and how he could have done it better. This isn't a daisy-chain outing; it's a bloody spying mission! Start acting like it, or you'll find how easy it is to have tragic accidents in the night woods!" He looked at her, amazed.  
  
"Are you, Rosellyn Stillwater, actually threatening me?" She backed off slightly and flipped Trustworthy almost idly. Then, like chain lightening, it left her hand and landed with a thunk, embedded in the trunk about an inch above his left ear.  
  
"No. I don't threaten. That's what we call a promise." He looked stunned and scared, an odd contortion of his handsome face, eyes still riveted on the dagger beside his head. She reached over and yanked it out, cleaning imaginary dirt off of the blade. "Does 'this woman' make her 'picky' self absolutely clear?" she asked. He nodded dazedly.  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"Good. Then let's pick up the trail of our friend, shall we?" and she continued as if nothing had happened.  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know, I left off in the middle. Bite me. You'll get the rest of the mission soon enough. I just like leaving you with a bit of a cliff-hanger. Plus, if I didn't break it up, this chapter would go on forever. Cheers! 


	15. The Night Isn't Over Yet

*Disclaimer* Wow. Chapter 15, and I still own nothing...  
  
A/N: Hirotani, thanks for that review. In answer to some of your questions:   
  
1)I realize that the first chapter is mostly one big block of writing. I apologize, readers!   
  
2)And yes, it is Delaney's ignorance on Elves, not mine. Keep in mind, she hasn't read any of the Lord of the Rings; she's a Zelda fan.  
  
3)I'm trying to work on the Elven names. You'll see more of them if I can, I promise. I didn't have an Elvish name generator on hand when I first wrote this, unfortunately.  
  
4)In chapter 12, Della encounters the unfortunate experience of Rose slipping away from her. Because she's in Rose's body, a sort of translator happens. It comes to her brain in Elvish, but she hears it as English. I realize English doesn't exist. I hope this clears up any questions. If you have any more, please don't hesitate to e-mail me at jyro_the_pyro@hotmail.com Now then, read on!  
  
Chapter 15- The Night Isn't Over Yet  
  
To Delaney's mind, Rose sounded ready to kill. ~What in the name of Valar was that?! Have you completely lost your mind?~ She felt some amusement prick inside of her at that. -You should know.- Rose, however, wasn't in the mood for joking. ~I never threaten anyone, least of all Legolas! You could completely destroy any chance I ever have of him liking me, and-~ -Oh, can it!- She burst out. She had suffered enough of Legolas' ramblings; must she get them inside her head, too? -Listen, I apologize if I acted out of character, but he wasn't taking this seriously! Your chances of hooking up with him are even slimmer if you're both dead!- Rose didn't have anything to say to that one; she knew it was true. Satisfied that she had silenced both her companions, she began to pick Rose's mental brain for tracking techniques. It wasn't that hard; the sentry wasn't worried about anybody following him. In a space of moments, they had found him again. Legolas hesitantly pulled her back.  
  
"Can I suggest something?" he asked, thoroughly cowed by her loss of temper.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"I'll go ahead, try to find the camp before he gets to it. Then we'll be ready. I hope you have a plan after that, because I've got nothing." She nodded.  
  
"Sounds good. Don't worry, you go ahead. I'll think of something." He nodded, relieved that she hadn't let loose her wrath on him again.  
  
"I have every faith that you will. Until then," he said, and saluted smartly. She gave a half-smile and threw a salute back. She didn't bother trying to follow him with her eyes; he was soon lost to sight, flitting among the night shadows. She kept up a leisurely pace; the sentry was going slowly.  
  
"Yeesh, if he was going any slower, he'd be going backwards," she muttered to no one in particular. To her shock, someone answered.  
  
"With good reason. A few more feet, and you'll trip over their camp." Legolas was right beside her, whispering in her ear.  
  
"Whoa, how'd you do that? Didn't you just leave?" she demanded. That was twice in one night someone had taken her by surprise; it didn't improve her temper much.  
  
"Yes. But I found the camp, didn't I? I was supposed to report back to you, and I did. Now then, I don't suppose that, in the two seconds I was gone, you thought of a plan?" She looked thoughtful.  
  
"Maybe. We have very little time to make several decisions. One, do we drop him right before he gets to camp, so he makes a dramatic entrance? Or do we let him tell the tale, then drop him? I'm trying to decide which one's more dramatic. Then, do we head count and leave? Or stay and bug them?" Legolas twisted his lips thoughtfully.  
  
"What I'd like to do is snuff him now. But once he heroically reenacts the battle, it'll be much more ironic if he kicks the bucket then. And we've already lost enough time; head count and leave, much as I'd like to give them something to think about."  
  
"How would I do this without you?"  
  
"You wouldn't. Come on, we have to wait for my cue." He went in front of her and started to circle the camp. She shrugged and followed. Seemed like the sensible thing to do. He manuvered himself so he could easily follow the sentry, and she suddenly made up her mind to go another. While he watched, she would do the headcount.  
  
Unfortunately, there weren't too many soldiers in this camp; fifty or so. Why did this mysterious warlord make such little camps? If Awaren had any sense, or listened to theirs, these piece-meal camps would be obliterated from the forest. She crept back to Legolas, trying to fit the puzzle together.  
  
"He's clever, this warlord." Legolas jumped, and she felt a little pride flow through her. Who was the jumpy one now, huh?  
  
"How do you figure?"  
  
"Well, he's either clever, recklessly brave, or recklessly stupid. As much as I'd like to think so, I highly doubt it's the latter."  
  
"Will you please get to the point?" he hissed, keeping his arrow nocked and his eyes on the sentry, who was relating his outrageous tale to a man who was obviously the officer in charge of the camp, and a large crowd.  
  
"Born player, him," she said, gesturing to the sentry. She enjoyed drawing out Legolas' patience, but knew not to push it when he tore his eyes off the scene. "All right, all right, calm down. I'm sure if you weren't preoccupied, it would come to you. Normally, these camps should be at least a hundred strong for protection. In an Elven forest, twice that size. But the Warlord's not stupid; quite the opposite. He knows that his ruse is working; he knows Awaren senses no danger, so look how small he makes these camps. If Awaren was on his guard, the camp wouldn't be this close, or this small. I..."  
  
"Makes sense," he said sharply, cutting her off, "but I've got an idea. I've no idea of how trained or disciplined these soldiers are, but if they rely fully on their officer, we're in luck. I nail the sentry. Get out your slingshot and nail the officer on his forehead, or somewhere where it'll make a mark. His story's winding to a close. When I give the signal..." She nodded to show her understanding and fumbled for her slingshot. She searched the ground again, keeping one eye on Legolas, the other on the sentry. Her hand closed around a stone, a little too large to be a pebble. Perfect. She loaded her sling and waited. Occasionally, snippets of the tale reached her ears, even more outrageous than they had been in the forest. She tried not to listen, keeping her ears trained on Legolas. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the tale wound to a close, in which the sentry was in a thrilling one-on-one battle with an Elven sargent. Idiot, she thought, Elves don't have "sargents". Then, after the fictious officer bungled and was slain, the sentry bowed, as if he had just acted in a play, to furious applause by his fellow soldiers. At the height of the adulation, Legolas kicked her sharply, perhaps a touch harder than he meant to.  
  
"Now, and make it count!" he whispered loudly. She took quick aim, drew back, and fired. A split-second after the arrow pierced the sentry's breast, the captain's head snapped back as the hard stone thwacked soundly against it, causing the skin to tear, and a small trickle of blood ran down. Chaos ensued; it appeared Legolas was correct. "I'd rather not stay and test my theory. Time we weren't here, Rose." She nodded, and they ran off, keeping their senses alert for a pursuit.  
  
No pursuit seemed to be coming, but they kept on the alert all the same. About a hundred yards from the camp, they slowed their pace.  
  
"Excellent work, slinging those rocks. The one you got the captain with was a beauty." She cringed slightly.  
  
"I think I accidentally killed him. Looked like his neck snapped." Legolas shrugged coldly, no pity in his eyes.  
  
"Serves him right. That'll give them something to think about, that's for sure. Let's go, and hopefully, we'll get all the sentries, this time." She was glad the dark hid her blush, for she was blushing furiously.  
  
"Oi! I'll never hear the end of this one, will I?" He slapped her on the back good-naturedly, smiling slightly.  
  
"Oh, lighten up, it was an honest mistake. I didn't see him either, did I? I promise I won't tell Tracie."  
  
"Oh, but you have to tell Tracie, weasly bow man. Why waste such an excellent story?" He nodded.  
  
"If you insist, fearsome-looking chappie. Come on, keep those Elven eyes of yours open!" She grinned, feeling herself get caught up in the heat of the chase. Well, they weren't chasing anything, but it was the same concept. But it was deja vu when Legolas, once again, threw out his arm to stop her. Only this time, she did a complete flip and landed, winded, on her back.  
  
"You've got to warn me before you do that," she gasped, trying to breathe. He got down next to her and propped himself up on his elbows.  
  
"Sorry. But I have to admit, it was fun watching you flip. See the sentries?" She twisted her lips, annoyed with the change in topic, but nevertheless, she looked for the sentries in question. Three, just like before.  
  
"Do you think there's actually three?"  
  
"Not a prayer. Here, find some pebbles or something." She opened her mouth to question, then closed it and crawled off in a manner Delaney recognized as commando-style to find rocks. About five minutes later, she came back, arms full of stones of every sort of shape. Legolas grinned as he saw her come back. Even in the semi-dark, her heart did acrobatic flips.  
  
"Ah, I knew I could count on you to bring back the entire quarry. I will swear unto my grave that you have some dwarf in you." She made a face.  
  
"I'm not sure whether to I'm being complimented or insulted." There was a small half-smile on his face.  
  
"Take it as you wish, Lady Rosellyn." She snickered, then stopped as the one hidden sentry, the one they couldn't see, stepped out.  
  
"Hoi! What's that noise? Haltred, someone's out there!" He turned his face to the closest sentry. Legolas shook his head despairingly, forehead in his hand.  
  
"I've never come up against that many armies; are they all this dim-witted? Why don't they just hang banners up that glow in the dark?" The sentry in the tree loaded his bow, speaking just as loudly to the hidden sentry.  
  
"If it's Kor, well an' good. If it isn't..." Delaney stifled a sigh as the figure licked his arrow. What did soldiers find so derring-do about that? 'Look at me, I can slit my tongue open and laugh about it, this makes me look studly', "then they got another thing coming to them!" They laughed oafishly at this. She leaned over and whispered into Legolas' ear.  
  
"I think they've got their signals crossed. Elves have heightened hearing, they're not deaf! Idiots!" Legolas wrinkled his nose in silent amusement. Then he jumped up and, before she had a chance to silence him, or pull him down, he waved his arms over his head and shouted, in a passably good imitation of the army's vernacular.  
  
"Oy! Haltred! Sentries 'round the camp! Tis me, Kor!" This caused excitement among the ranks. She had no idea who Kor was, or what Legolas was doing, but she had no choice but to play along. He stretched his hand down to her. "Get up, come on," he whispered, "you'll love this plan once you get it." He raised his voice again. "I got an Elven spy! I caught one!" She looked at him, wondering if he had gone insane.  
  
"You. Cannot. Do. This!" she whispered, seperating every word. "How close do you plan to go?" He pulled his hair back into a ponytail and stood facing her squarely.  
  
"Can you tell my ears are pointed?" She slowly shook her head, fearful. He had pulled his fair hair over the tips of his ears. He nodded, satisfied. "Good. Then we'll go as close as we can." He pulled out a small piece of Elvish rope. She started to quake.  
  
"Legolas...I'm scared..." He smiled and took her by both hands, pulling her up.  
  
"Don't be. I promise, nothing will happen to you." She looked into his eyes and saw sincerity shining through.  
  
"I believe you..." she whispered. He hugged her quickly.  
  
"Good. Now, put your hands behind your back. Struggle as much as you can. I'll bluff it out, don't worry."  
  
"I have to worry. But I trust you." He quickly bound her hands and feet.  
  
A/N: Wow, two cliffhangers in a row. I must be on a roll...and this mission just doesn't seem to end! But Legolas might be getting Rose into more trouble than he thinks. Typical teenage boy. 


	16. Captive

*Disclaimer* ::checks watch:: Nope, still own nothing.  
  
A/N: Okay, I felt bad leaving you with that cliffhanger. So here you go. Don't expect this every time, now. Read on!  
  
Chapter 16- Captive  
  
"Kor, what's taken you so long?" He lifted her with an exagerrated grunt of effort and slung her over his shoulder.  
  
"Bloody immortals! Putting up a fight, this one!" They all guffawed heartily at that one. Though she was told to struggle, she didn't try until they came into full view. Silence reigned as Legolas walked out, trying to shake his Elven way of walking. She wished he didn't; it was bouncy enough as it was.  
  
"H-hey. You aren't Kor!" Legolas adopted a lower tone of voice, not his mellow tenor, but coldly educated one.  
  
"You're a hard Man to fool, aren't you? I do not know what became of your friend Kor, but you are talking loud enough to attract every Elf in Mirkwood, aye, and Lothlorién!" The sentries climbed down from the trees, curious, and the grounded sentry brandished his spear at him somewhat truculently.  
  
"Well, well, who're you, to be talking to us like that?" Legolas smiled grimly, and everyone around took one step back.  
  
"Who are you, to question me so?" No one had an answer to that. He nodded slightly. "As I suspected. Now, I suppose you'll be wanting this," He threw her down on the ground, and she winced as her jaw hit the ground painfully. Did he have to throw her so hard? Even as a prisoner, it seemed a bit unnecessary. Remembering her role, she struggled into a sitting position and bared her teeth defiantly.  
  
"You'll never take me to your scummy warlord alive, you rotten bunch of slime-faced cowards!" Her words caused a stir among the Men. The ground sentry prodded her with his spear, though not hard enough to even damage her shirt.  
  
"Huh, so this is the great terror that stalks the woodlands? She couldn't fight to save aught, and that's the truth! Here now, you keep a civil tongue in your head, missie, or you'll soon find that tongue out of your head!" Legolas kept up his pretense as the mysterious stranger, trying to sound and look as though he wasn't the same age as the 'captive' he was presenting. It seemed to be working; the Men seemed as dim-witted as Legolas predicted they would be. Well, he was technically a fair bit older than she, about 1,600 years to her 1,300. But what would Men know of that?  
  
"It does not pay to belittle the fighting power of Elves, even the very young. Besides, as a captive, she may come in handy. Her parents will trip over themselves to free her with no harm done. You know how these sort get about their children." This earned a few grins among the ranks. Legolas' easygoing air disappeared. "Now, I wish to speak with your warlord, to discuss this girl." The smiles evaporated almost instantly.  
  
"Eh..." The ground sentry seemed to be elected spokesperson. "Perhaps...it could wait til morrow, sir? It will take at least all night into dawn to get the main camp."  
  
"How many are in your camp?" Rose inwardly marveled at her friend's methods. Why worry about getting caught when the enemy did the work for them?  
  
"Er...two and a half score, plus our captain. Here now," he said, forcing her chin up with the blade of the spear he carried, leering nastily, "Elves is said to be the fairest of creatures; she's a pretty little piece of work, isn't she? Are you sure you can't stay the night, sir? I could find a nice berth for this maid, aye!" She struggled not to show any signs of fear. That could not bode well. Legolas would never let anything happen to her. Yet the suggestive chuckles in the woods surrounding her pierced her with terror, and, despite having Legolas' strong presence at her back, her breath came in labored, shallow gasps. Stupid, stupid Man! Legolas' rebuttal, however, sent them back to their places.  
  
"Fool! I come for information, not a harrassment of my captive!" There were, however, several sly looks. He had said 'his' captive. Perhaps that was why he refused the invitation for the night? She felt tears of shame prick her eyes. She would not let them fall! "Now then. How many are in the closest camp to here, over yonder?" The sentry looked thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"Five and seventy, an' if it's different, tis more. Is that all you'll be needing, sir?" Legolas nodded, almost absent-mindedly pulling out an arrow from his quiver.  
  
"Let this be a last lesson to you all: keep your voice down and question everything." Leaning over, he quickly cut the bonds on Delaney's hands. "Up and at them, now!" he yelled. The sentries, for their part, reacted quickly. One arrow grazed her side as she cut the rope on her feet, and Legolas put paid to the offending sentry. She hacked the spear handle of the ground sentry in half, then slew him with a vicious thrust to the gut. She looked around for the next onslaught, but there wasn't one to be seen. Her friend had seen to the tree sentries.  
  
"If you ever make me do that again, Legolas Greenleaf, I will make you wish you'd drowned in the lake!" she said, meaning every word of it.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't think they'd tease you so. I just thought it might be a better ploy than swinging rocks around haphazardly."  
  
"It's not the teasing, silly, it's just...they want to hurt you, and you're helpless, you can't do a thing about it. I'd rather die than be a captive for real."  
  
"Then pray such a thing never happens. Come on, discuss it on the walk. It's time we were headed home." He was right. She pulled a clump of grass and cleaned her knife blade with it, then tossed the grass aside.  
  
"What possessed you? Okay, so we saved half the night traveling; why did you think making me a captive would work better than any other ploy?" He shrugged.  
  
"To tell you the truth, I didn't. But I wanted to see what kind of shape those soldiers are in, and it's sad, let me tell you."  
  
"No need," she cut in, "I was there." He smiled slightly.  
  
"Silly me. Of course. It was really just one of those spur-of-the-moment plans, and it worked quite well, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"No, because you weren't the one tied up on the ground so people could make sport of. I prefer other plans, thanks ever so much."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind. Pick up the pace; we saved time, but that doesn't mean we can just hang around." In the deepest inset of her mind, Delaney had secretly hoped that they could hang around in the forest, but knew not to raise her expectations too high. She could just be happy to spend time with him. Besides, for all she knew, something could have happened between Tracie and Legolas. But she doubted it. Tracie would have told her, just to rub it in her face. Not that Tracie was mean; she just loved to mercilessly tease Rose. It was all in good fun, she supposed. Her spirits took a slight dip. She plastered a smile on her face anyway. Unfortunately, he knew her too well. "Oh, what's wrong?"  
  
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong," she said, carefully tooling her features to be openly innocent. But, he knew her too well.  
  
"Come on. You and I both know you can look innocent when you want to. It'll fool everyone else, but Tracie, Forest, and I have been around you a wee bit too long. Something's wrong. You only smile like that when you're feeling down. Look, if it's about the whole captive thing, I said I was sorry."  
  
"I wish you didn't know me so well. It's not about the captive thing, though. Don't worry." But, luckily, he didn't know her well enough to know what exactly was bothering her. For which she was grateful.  
  
"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't? Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Just great. Really." The look on his face said he didn't believe it for a minute, but he didn't say anything else about the subject. They continued on, falling silent when they neared the first camp. To her amusement, almost every Man in the camp was ringed around the exterior, waiting for an army to attack. She gave in to temptation and shot off one stone, just one. It pinged harmlessly off a spear handle, but the chaos it caused was instantaneous. The two friends were far away by the time the camp realized there was no army. Legolas was torn between berating her and giggling along with her. He settled for a combonation of both.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that! They could have killed us! Even though they couldn't hit a fish in a puddle. But did you see that guy's face? Classic. But that doesn't justify endangering our position, not in the least. Okay, I admit that you had pretty good aim there...but what if they killed us? Then what use would great aim be?!" She rolled her eyes, somewhat amused.  
  
"Are you lecturing me or congratulating me?" He stopped and actually looked thoughtful for a moment. Only for a moment. Then he continued walking.  
  
"Both, I guess. But since you're my friend, I'll just say 'nice shot' and leave it at that." She snorted at that.  
  
"Oh please! Since when have you ever just left anything at that? You have to debate it, pick over it, say what source you got your information from, why you disagree with the author and name five other people who do as well." He looked like the picture of injured dignity.  
  
"Why, you belittle the fine art that is debating."  
  
"You just demean it into arguing."  
  
"I'm hurt."  
  
"I'm right."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"I know."  
  
A/N: There. Not quite so cliffhanger-y. Ttfn, ta ta for now! 


	17. A Rift in Friendships

*Disclaimer* The only thing I own is the computer on which I write this story. Nothing else.  
  
A/N: Wow, reviews keep coming in...I've already addressed the block paragraph issue; I apologize. I didn't realize it was so hard to read. (I'm blinded by a mother's love for her brainchild. That's why I need reviewers like you!) As to the confusion about Silmarillion...Confession time, in which I realize I might lose some readers: I haven't read the Silmarillion. I'm sorry! I just wanted this story to be strictly about the Lord of the Rings trilogy, about Legolas's teenage years. But about The Hobbit: those pesky spiders will appear later. So, that being said, and if you haven't left in disgust at my faux pax, read on!  
  
Chapter 17- A Rift in Friendships  
  
They made good time. The predawn light was just beginning to filter through the trees when they sighted the valley. Not caring about keeping a bold front in front of Legolas, Delaney flopped onto the grass under the first tree she saw with a sigh. She was just tired, and if Rose didn't like that, she could just faint next time she was in control. ~Which will be now, if you don't mind~ Delaney sighed and mentally lapsed, letting Rose shove her, somewhat harder than necessary, into the recesses of her mind.  
  
Rosellyn twitched her fingers slightly, as she always did when she came into control. She missed having the ability to do things as simple as wiggle her fingers. Legolas sat next to her and drew out parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill. She immediately snatched them from him.  
  
"Oh, no you don't. I've learned my lesson about letting your sloppy handwriting rule the day. I'll write the numbers down." He looked a touch annoyed. "Come on, admit it. Three hundred year old children have better handwriting than you."  
  
"What can I say? It never seemed all that important to me. Besides, when I turned in papers like this, the teacher never knew what exactly I was trying to write, and gave me full credit just in case. The second camp had fifty, by the way." She scratched out the number she had written before and wrote '50' in her own neater handwriting.  
  
"I always wondered how you kept your marks up. By rights, she should have caught you and made you do it again until someone over the age of four hundred could read it."  
  
"Here, now, I thought you said three hundred."  
  
"Oops. Oh look, it's dawn." She was right. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, its light filtering through valleys in the mountains and creeping across the ground, reflecting in brilliant colors off the lake water, filling the air with small rainbows. She loved dawn, being a morning person. She already knew Della was more of a night person, favoring the moon over the sun. How could anyone rate the sun as only second best? It was so bright, and always made people feel so cheerful. ~Keep your cheerfulness. The moon has mystery, and it's sort of an unearthly beauty. Sort of like Elves, now that I come to think of it. I like the dark, thank you very much.~ She thought about that, then gave a mental shrug. -To each his own. I still like the sun better- Della sent forth a wave of skepticism, then resided.  
  
"Hey, are you alive? The third camp had seventy five, according to that sentry, and we might as well believe him; he had no reason to lie to us." She shook herself slightly.  
  
"They very often don't need one; but you're right, what can we do, except believe him?" She wrote, just below the second camp, Third Camp-75.  
  
"Well, that's done. Now all we have to do is go wait for Tracie." She paused. "Better yet, why wait? If I get woken up in my bedroom by you two, the least I can do is return the favor." He shook his head, turning slightly pink.  
  
"I'm so glad we thought of this after you two went out on your own..." he muttered. Then he straightened, the familiar glint in his eye. "No use waiting. Let's go give her a wake up call." She stood up and dusted herself off.  
  
"But we have to be quiet. Forest's bedroom is connected to her's." He rolled his eyes and spoke with restrained patience.  
  
"Go teach your grandmother to knit, Rose. I know what I'm doing."  
  
"And what would that be?" They both jumped. The voice had come from nowhere. Inwardly, Rosellyn sighed. That made it three times; when would it end? As she had guessed, Benvenue stepped out from behind a house. Legolas relaxed ever so slightly, putting the arrow he had drawn on instinct back into his quiver. She knew what he was thinking; at least it wasn't Awaren or Linka. They could deal with Benvenue. "Were you thinking to shoot me, master Greenleaf? I didn't mean for you to get so worried. I was merely taking a morning stroll through the woods. My, you two look tired. Where have you been?" Rosellyn wasn't fooled. It was plain as anything that Benvenue had been waiting for them to return, and she could see that he was very tense, a slight sheen of sweat forming on his brow.  
  
"Our business is our own, master Haltier. We meet again," said Legolas, agitatedly courteous. Benvenue smiled.  
  
"Ah, so cynical for a young one. Well, young in your terms." He smiled, inviting them to share in the small joke. They didn't. "Well, I was just wondering if I could pull miss Rosellyn aside for a moment." She started to move forward, but Legolas grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back.  
  
"Sorry, we're in a bit of a hurry. Maybe later. Good day, master Haltier." And with that, he halfway dragged her off, and she could feel Benvenue's eyes following them until they were out of site. She wrenched her arm away.  
  
"I could have just talked with him for a moment," she said, a touch exasperated.  
  
"No, you couldn't. He's going to try to turn us in, I just know it. Do you want to go to Tracie's or not?" She stopped. He stopped as well, and turned to face her.  
  
"What do you have against him, anyway?" she cried, "He's never done anything to you! He seems perfectly trustworthy; I bet he'd help, if we asked!"  
  
"But we're not going to! Men are weak, everyone knows that! You, me, and Tracie can do this by ourselves, and we don't need him!" There was a ringing silence for a moment. Then, she slung off her knapsack and threw it at him. Surprised, he caught it.  
  
"Fine. You can go to Tracie's. You can all be close-minded together. I always thought you gave people chances, but I guess I was wrong. I'm going back to Damita's. I'll see you later." With that, she started in the opposite direction, away from Benvenue and away from Legolas Greenleaf. He made no attempt to follow her; she didn't know if she was disappointed or grateful. She heard a slight rustle of leaves on her left, on the forest side. She blew a sigh and stopped. "Come out." Benvenue emerged, looking a bit surprised.  
  
"Not bad, miss Rosellyn."  
  
"Save it. What do you want?"  
  
"To apologize for any strain I've caused in your...friendship...with Legolas." First Tracie and Forest, now Benvenue. When would people just be satisfied with friendship?  
  
"We're just friends. I accept your apology. If you'll excuse me, I really just want to go to sleep." He backed off with a slight bow.  
  
"As you say. I hope to see you again this afternoon."  
  
"That would be...pleasant. Good day." She pivoted on her right heel and took off running. He might have been able to catch her if he really tried, but she didn't think he would try. Unhindered by her knapsack, which would bounce around in an annoying manner, she felt like she was flying, her hair streaming behind her like a banner. The dawn air was slightly cool, whipping against her face. She arrived at the house steps somewhat winded, but feeling a lot better for the fresh air. She paused at the threshold, regaining her breath, before she began upwards.   
  
Climbing the steps, she saw the last face she ever wanted to see when she was sneaking home, even last among the list of Linka, Awaren, or Forest. Meira was getting a glass of water when she happened to look out the window and see her foster sister climb up the stairs. Rosellyn blew a sigh, knowing she had a lot of explaining to do. Meira looked so young and innocent, standing at the head of the stairs, clutching a little rag doll to her chest, empty cup dangling by her side.  
  
"Rosie...Rosie...what're you doing out at night?" She gave a little smile.  
  
"Not to worry, May-May. I was just going out for a little air. Nothing's wrong."  
  
"You were gone the whole night," she said petulantly. Then, she knew she was good and caught. If Meira knew she was out all night, no amount of lying could save her now. "What were you doing? I'm gonna tell Mother!"  
  
"No, Meira, please don't tell Dam! I know I'm not supposed to be out, but I had to. You wouldn't understand."  
  
"You were out with Legolas," she said. She looked at the little girl with amazement. Sometimes, Meira really surprised her.  
  
"Was that just a really good guess?" Meira shook her head.  
  
"No. I went over to Tracie's house and she was still there. I mean, I didn't go to the door or anything, I just looked in the window. And Forest was still there, too. So I figured that you went with Legolas." Rosellyn shook her head in amazement.  
  
"I think I'm rubbing off on you, May-May. Since when do you spy on anyone?" Meira looked shame-faced.  
  
"It just seemed like the right thing to do. Ellie doesn't know," she added.  
  
"I didn't think Ellie would."  
  
"Can I come with you next time?" She looked at her little friend sharply.  
  
"Absolutely not," she said without hesitation. Meira looked hurt. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyes filled bright, unshed tears. Rosellyn, however, was impervious to her foster-sister's pitiful antics.  
  
"Come on. I've lived with you too long to be influenced by that." Meira sighed and swallowed her tears.  
  
"Why can't I come, then?"  
  
"Because what we're doing is too dangerous and too important. Stay here. You don't know anything about what's going on, and you aren't going to tell Dam what's going on or where I've been. Right?" Meira downcast her eyes.  
  
"Right. I promise on Dimberaidiel that I won't tell Mommy." Dimberaidiel was the doll, and Meira's most prized possesion. Her father had made it for her before he died, and she never let it out of her sight. It was the strongest promise she could make. Rosellyn hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"Thank you, May-May. I knew you'd understand, and I know you'll stick to your promise." Meira nodded. "Now, let's go back to bed." Meira nodded again, and snuck her little hand into Rosellyn's. She walked her to her room and tucked her in. Then she went to her own room, changed, and fell into bed herself. She thought about what Legolas must be telling Tracie right now, and what Benvenue was doing, waiting for her. With only these thoughts to keep her company, she drifted into an uneasy and far-from-restful doze.  
  
A/N: Poor Rosellyn, poor Legolas...and what is Benvenue up to? I guess you'll just have to wait and see. 


	18. The Situation Worsens

*Disclaimer* Guess what?! I don't own LotR! Alert the media!  
  
A/N: Wow...lotsa reviews! I like that! Things are getting a little angsty for Rose in the future, you've been warned. Read on!  
  
Chapter 18-The Situation Worsens  
  
She didn't sleep as long as she wanted to, only an hour or two. She stood up, facing the facts that she wouldn't be getting any sleep, threw on her robe, and decided to go help Dam with breakfast. Dam looked surprised to see her, to say the least.  
  
"Oh, you're up early, aren't you, Rosie? Is anything wrong?" She shook her head.  
  
"I'm just fine, Dam. I just couldn't get back to sleep. Bad dream." Dam nodded sympathetically. Rose only wished it had been a bad dream.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry. Would you like to help me with breakfast?" She nodded pleasantly, her fake smile on her face.  
  
"Sure. That sounds good. What can I do?" She kept her mind off the previous night's events by focusing all her attention on preparing the food. When they were done, Meira and Ellie still hadn't woken up yet, so she ate her breakfast while it was still hot, then went back to her room to change.  
  
"Thank you for helping, dear. Are you going outside after you get dressed?"  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"I know you're going into the forest. Excersize caution. Those Riders might still be there." She sighed.  
  
"I wish you didn't know me so well. I'll be careful, I promise."  
  
"Thank you." She went to her room and dawdled, wondering where to go. She hadn't been to Linka and Awaren's place since the rebuttal; it didn't interest her in the slightest. She couldn't go to Tracie's, for fear of finding Legolas. If she went anywhere else around the Glade, chances were more than great of running into Benvenue. Neither option appealed to her in the slightest. So, into the forest it would have to be. But where to go? She considered her options.   
  
There was a large oak she always went to when she was little. That would be a good place; it was an easy climb, and secluded. There, she could be alone. Satisfied, she began to actually productively change. Since she was going to do some climbing, she discarded her dresses and began choosing from her more athletic clothes. Nothing fancy; just a white shirt and a pair of forest green breeches. Then, she climbed down the steps and slipped into the forest, hoping that none of the Elves walking around saw her.   
  
It occured to her, as she struck out east, that she was taking the long way around. But the shorter route took her right next to Legolas's house. Besides, she mentally reasoned, the fresh air and excersize would do her good. ~You're the last person on earth who needs excersize. Besides, you're over-rationalizing. Whenever someone over-rationalizes, it means they're worried.~ She rolled her eyes. -Brilliant. Of course I'm worried. Just be quiet.- For once, Della obeyed.  
  
Reveling in the silence, she continued on. Fifteen minutes later, she stood at the base of the old oak, patting the bark fondly. The first branch was closer to the ground than she remembered. Then again, when she was 900, so was she. She swung up on the branch, then another, then another, until she was back in her familiar element. When she finally got up to the broad forked branch that served as her perch, she felt a lot better, more peaceful.  
  
She watched the breeze stir the leaves slightly, letting her mind go blissfully blank. This was perfect. So what if she had lost the love of her life, who was also her best friend? So what if Benvenue thought she and Legolas were a couple, even though she wished with all her heart that they were?   
  
Okay, so it wasn't so perfect. Feeling a little less happy, she turned slightly on her side, inspecting the carvings she had made on the branch. "Rosellyn, age 846." "Traceheart, age 834." "Rosellyn, Tracie, and Forest forever!" She gave a sad smile. She doubted that Tracie remembered their old hideout. Forest never knew about it to begin with. Despite her feelings now, she knew that one name still belonged here. She drew Diamondsong, the only knife she had with her today, and started carving. "Rosellyn and Legolas for-never." She felt saddened, but it was the truth.  
  
"Hey," said a voice, slightly out of breath, "you want to give me a hand up, here?" Surprised, she hadn't heard anyone come, she peeked between the fork of the branch.  
  
"Forest?!" She was sure she had seen wrong. Forest didn't know about this tree, she was positive. But apparently wrong, because her friend was pulling himself up the tree. Startled, she automatically obeyed, reaching out a helping hand and pulling him up. Then, she tried to causually cover her latest carving with a hand, as if she was supporting herself. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you knew about this tree." He snorted.  
  
"Ha! Give you a clue about being a twin: no matter how hard you try, you can never keep a secret from your sibling. I used to follow you two, when you tried to sneak up here." She looked at him sharply. She'd made a lot of confessions in this tree, some more embarrassing than others.  
  
"Did you spy on us?" He shook his head nonchalantly, apparently oblivious to the fact that he nearly caused her to have a heart attack.  
  
"Nah. I just wanted to see where you were going. Never really wanted to hear what you two talked about. Hey, look at these carvings! Tracie made this when she was 834? Wow. It seems like such a long time ago, now. We've all changed, haven't we?"  
  
"Some more than others," she said truthfully. He smiled, and a thought occured to her: if Forest knew about everything Tracie did, what if he knew about the spying?  
  
"I know. Speaking of which, are you mad at Legolas?" ~Well,~ thought Delaney, ~Speak of the devil, and he might show up.~ She didn't bother to inquire what the devil was, because she had to answer Forest.  
  
"What makes you think that?" she asked, schooling her features into innocent nonchalance. When he smiled wryly, she knew he wasn't fooled. But, being Forest, he didn't say anything about it.  
  
"Because Tracie said you two got into a fight over something last night. Don't know how she would know, but I wanted to hear it from you."  
  
"Have you talked to him yet?" she inquired.  
  
"No. But I thought that if you got into a fight with any of your friends, this is where you'd go."  
  
"Are all my instincts written down somewhere? Yes, I suppose you could say we had a fight. It was really more of a disagreement of character, with perhaps a few uncalled-for words being exchanged..."  
  
"It was a fight," said Forest, cutting her off. She hung her head.  
  
"Yes. A fight."  
  
"I won't ask what about, even though I want to know. If you want to tell me, I'll listen. If you don't, I won't ask."  
  
"Thanks, Forest." He smiled crookedly.  
  
"What are friends for? Say, do you think I can come with you when you spy tonight?" Surprised, she almost lost her grip.  
  
"What? How did you-?"  
  
"The twin thing, remember? I was listening at the door this morning. That's how I knew you and Legolas had your 'disagreement of character'."  
  
"But...but I thought you didn't approve..."  
  
"I don't. But I'm not so callous as to turn in my own sister and my friends, and I'm not conservative enough to want to miss out on all the fun you seem to have. So, what do you think?"  
  
"Ask Legolas," she said bluntly, "or Tracie. I'm not going."  
  
"What? Why? This is so important to you!"  
  
"Was," she corrected, "it was important to me. I'll find some other way to pass the time, whether it be doing chores, sleeping, or twiddling my thumbs. But I won't be going tonight." He shook his head.  
  
"You're lying," he said flatly, "you're lying and you know it. This is important to you, and the only reason you're not going is because of Legolas." She didn't deign it necessary to answer. "I see. Well, I will make sure you go, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming through the woods to do so!" She shook her head stubbornly.  
  
"I'm not, and nothing can make me. You go, have your conservative fun. I don't care anymore. If Awaren wants to bring ruin to Mirkwood, so be it. He's only doing what he thinks is best!" He shook her roughly by the shoulders.  
  
"Did you actually hear what you just said? That's not true, Rose, you know that's not true! I never thought I would hear you say that!" She pulled away roughly.  
  
"Oh? Well, you thought wrong!" she yelled, and half-climbed, half-fell down the tree. She stomped off without looking back. Forest watched her go, saddened. He shifted his weight slightly, and put his hand down. He felt something that was not treebark. Puzzled, he lifted his hand and traced the carving, fresh, if the wet sap was any judge, with a finger. His eyes widened, and his head shot up.  
  
"Rosellyn! Wait!" But she was already gone.  
  
A/N: Not doing too well in the friendship department, is she? I hope this doesn't strike you as melodrama, but hey. War can do that to a person, I suppose. 


	19. Who Says There's a Calm Before a Storm?

*Disclaimer* I wish I owned something. But I don't.  
  
A/N: No reviews? A lesser person might feel hurt. Oh well. The plot REALLY picks up here. And plus, Rose get to battle with words, not weapons. I know which one I'm better at...  
  
Chapter 19-Who Says There's Calm Before the Storm?  
  
Rosellyn stomped off, not hearing Forest call after her. She knew what she had said was stupid and irrational, and she didn't need Delaney to tell her that. But she was feeling stupid and irrational, so she felt better after yelling at him.   
  
But where should she go now? There was nowhere else to go that would be safe for her. Well, not safe, but she couldn't go anywhere without running into people she didn't want to run into. On a sudden inspiration, she changed course, heading deeper into the woods. She knew them like the back of her hand. Nothing could harm her in here; she knew plenty of little hidey holes if something hap-  
  
Later, she cursed her stupidity. The hidden noose was child's play. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have spotted it instantly.  
  
But she hadn't been thinking clearly, and she found herself looking up at the forest floor. Sighing exasperatedly, she reached for Diamondsong. She wasn't panicking, not yet. This wasn't good Elven hithlain rope, just cheap Man-made stuff. She could cut it easily. As she was unsheathing her knife, she stopped and listened. Then she started to panic. Someone had obviously been watching the traps. And they were coming. She hacked at the rope, frenzied. In her haste, she dropped the knife.   
  
Groaning, she inspected the cut made in the rope. It was almost broken. If she could just reach her knife...she reached out her arm. Nothing doing; she was too far off the ground. She bent in a position that made her stomach and back muscles scream and pulled the rope off as best she could. The figures, she was in no mood to gauge how many, were coming closer, and quickly. Suddenly, the rope parted with a snap and she fell to the ground, landing painfully on her neck and back, knocking her wind out.   
  
She lay there for a few moments, trying painfully to move. She pulled herself up and started to run, then thought better of it. There was no way she could run in this state, and she wasn't about to try. She looked around for her pursuers. They were on her left, but even with her Elven eyes, they were still far off. They wouldn't be able to see her. She looked at the tree that had held her captive, considering. Then, she jumped up, trying to reach the nearest branch. It fell short of her fingers.   
  
She looked around frantically, trying to find a shorter, more reachable branch. She found one a few yards away and leapt to it, climbing with strength born of desperation into the upper canopy. She waited, chest heaving with exertion. She wished she had some sort of missle weapon, but she didn't have anything except Diamondsong, Trustworthy, and smaller knives, one tucked in each boot. The small knives were the right weight for throwing, if there was a small enough party coming her way. If not...she was in trouble. She hoped it was a small party.  
  
It was a fair-sized party, a dozen Men; not big enough for imminent death on her part, but not small enough to risk knife throwing. She watched, trying to calm the cursedly loud breathing. They didn't seem to hear it, but she convinced that, any second now, they would look up, see her, and that would be the end. The one who seemed to be in charge threw down the broken rope ends in disgust.  
  
"Cut right through it, he did. Like an hot knife running through butter!"  
  
"Could he have gone far?" asked one Man, towards the back. The Man in charge seemed to be thinking hard about that. In her opinion, it looked painful.  
  
"Well...seems as though he'd have fallen a fair way, landing on his hands and feet, like Elves are supposed to do. That might slow him up a bit. He'd have made it back to the city, if he had a lick of sense. They know we're moving in. Let's run back and sound the alarm! War's coming, tell the warlord!" The same Man in the back spoke up again.  
  
"I don't want to fight Elves! Dirty good fighters they are, and they might outnumber us!" He received a wallop upside the head for his opinions.  
  
"Knucklehead! So what? They don't know what we're about, they're unprepared!"  
  
"But the one we caught..." Another wallop.  
  
"That's why we've got to get back to camp, simpleton! So we take them by surprise!" She smiled slightly.  
  
"I say, an officer striking an enlisted soldier? With name calling to boot? Not very military like, if you want my opinion." They immediately got their weapons out and searched around wildly, trying to find her.  
  
"None asked for your opinion, now show yourself!" She chuckled slightly.  
  
"What about the one that got away? The longer you stand here looking for me, why, the closer he gets to home..." The officer looked panicky and undecided. Then, he kicked two of the Men.  
  
"You, and you, get back to camp and warn the others! We'll deal with this one." She took a risk and threw the small weighted knives, pinning both in the necks of the unfortunate scouts.  
  
"Come now, only two? Do you really think you know what you're up against?"  
  
"You spawn of evil!" shrieked the officer, "Come out and fight like a Man!"  
  
"Ah, you see, therein lies the problem. I am not a Man, in any sense of the word. So, I'll fight on my own terms, if that's not a problem." The officer milled through the ten Men he had left and picked the five smallest. That left her with six. Not precisely the number she had hoped for, but well enough.  
  
"All of you, run for camp, and quickly if you want to see another dawn!" They sped off like the Nazgul were on their tails.  
  
"If you insist playing like this, who am I to stand in the way? I do so love seeing children at their games; so charming and innocent."  
  
"Soon as I know where you are, missy, it's death for you!" So, they had finally paid attention to her voice pitch.  
  
"Thank you, but I believe I'll have to take you up on that one later. Busy agenda, you know." She plucked a single solitary leaf and let it drift downward, knowing it would take them years, if left to their own devices. The soldiers watched it fall to their feet, then leapt away, as if it were some sort of poison.  
  
"It came from over there," said the officer, pointing about two yards to the left of her. She inwardly sighed. Men. They huddled together and moved forward slowly, keeping their eyes to the canopy. She quickly checked out how high she was. The fall wouldn't kill her, not if she had them to cushion it.  
  
"By the Valar! You people couldn't find water after a rainstorm!" They stopped dead and looked around. She braced herself, knowing she couldn't hold it off too long if she had any chance of taking them by surprise. But it was a really long way down... "This is for...for...for Mirkwood!" she yelled, closed her eyes, and threw herself down.  
  
She took out three in one go by landing on them. She unsheathed Trustworthy and Diamondsong with a flourish, showing off all her skill. They backed off for a moment, taken aback, then they smiled. Only a girl. She narrowed her eyes. She'd prove to them all what girls could and could not do. ~Preach it to them, sistah. And remember, actions speak louder than words.~ She didn't understand the first part, but the second was all too clear. She watched, knives at ready, while they made a semi-circle around her. If worst came to worse, she could turn tail and run, even though that option didn't appeal to her warrior's nature. The officer smiled evilly.  
  
"Got you now, girl. Scouts are on their way, you're dying here...go to the grave knowing Mirkwood will soon be under the rule of the Riders! Get her, you two!" She had to smile. Typical Man: put his foot in his mouth and sent others to make sure he held out. She eyed the weapons the two unsure Men held at ready. Blessedly, the archers had been sent out with the scouts. One held a spear, which was more of a close-range weapon than a throwing kind, and the other held a sword, with a bag of darts in his belt pouch.  
  
"That's what you think. You'll have to get past me first."  
  
"With pleasure," said the spear-holder, rushing her. She knocked the spear head aside with Trustworthy and chopped the weapon in half with Diamondsong. She stamped on his hand before he could pick it up again and knocked the pommel of Diamondsong against his temple with punishing force. Sword-holder backed off.  
  
"You...you killed him!" She checked his pulse, never taking her eyes off her attacker. Then she shook her head.  
  
"No, but I'll kill you if you ask nicely."  
  
"You're just bluffing," sneered the officer. She turned to him.  
  
"Care to put your money where your mouth is, or will you have witless here foot the bill?" The soldier sneered at her, but pushed Sword-holder in front of him. She smiled mockingly. "I thought so. Step right up." The sword-holder rushed her with a yell, but not a very confident one. She deflected his direct thrust and parried with all her skill, which wasn't much. She knew how to use her knives ably, but fencing, especially against a swordsman with only her knives, was not part of her training.   
  
To her dismay, she was kept on defense almost all the time. She trusted to her mobility skills to keep her alive; the second she couldn't move was the last second of her life. She saw an opening, and, for once, didn't hesitate to follow it. She ducked under the sword, blade just barely missing her ear, and slashed for his hand. He cursed, then switched hands. -Just my luck,- she thought. -The one good swordsman in the entire army, most likely--and he can use both hands! -  
  
But now, at least she had some sort of advantage over him. He carried his wounded hand limply at his side, adding a bit of extra dead weight. Not that it was much of an advantage; he was just as good with his left hand as he was with his right. The fight began in earnest yet once more, the officer merely looking on. She was grateful for this; she needed to focus all of her attention on the enemy in front of her.   
  
Suddenly, moving impossibly fast, his sword slithered under her guard and slashed downward. She screamed as a streak of white-hot pain tore down her stomach. She managed to turn away his blade one more time before she was down. She collapsed on her back, scrunching her eyes shut against the firebrand that had pushed itself against her. Slowly, she opened them to inspect the wound. Not fatally deep, but not superficially shallow, either. She would live, unless the Man killed her right now.  
  
That seemed to be his intent; when she stuggled to sit up, he pushed her back down again with the toe of his boot. Then the officer shoved him out of the way and took his sword, pressing the edge against her throat. Raw fear coursed its way through her veins. There was dead silence in the forest except for her spasmodic breathing, her chest heaving up and down, up and down. The minutes stretched into eternity.  
  
"I know you," said the swordman suddenly. "You're the little girl that was 'captured' by that weird chap with the pale hair, the one who killed Haltred. Bet you didn't know I was watching you, eh?"  
  
"Hiding in the shadows, were you?" she asked, not able to restrain herself. "I never liked snakes to begin with." Hate spasmed across his face, but the officer held up a hand.  
  
"Listen!" he said, suddenly. They all listened. There it was; the sound of an army moving through a forest. The officer turned his eyes on her, smiling maliciously. "Any other time, I'd invite you back to camp...but it looks as though I'll have my pick of Elven girls by tonight. No hard feelings, eh?"  
  
"None at all," she replied, and, curling up into a fetal position, kicked out at him just as he raised the sword for a killing blow. Not expecting an attack, he was completely taken by surprise. The sword flew from his hand and he fell hard on his back, wind knocked out. Before the swordman could do anything, she flung Trustworthy somewhat awkwardly; instead of killing the Man, it buried itself in his leg. She pulled it out, wincing, then retreived her proper throwing knives. The army was much closer now; she hobbled as quickly as she could, tearing the sleeves of her shirt to make a rough bandage as she went. It wasn't bleeding, but it was painful, terribly so. She made it back to Mirkwood and collapsed into the arms of a startled-looking Elf, she didn't care enough to immediately identify who.  
  
"Dear...Rosellyn...whatever happened?" It was Antiphony.  
  
"Anti...Rider army...coming here now! Attack! Tell Awaren! Get everyone... ready..." She fainted dead away from pain, exhaustion, and blood loss.  
  
A/N: Well, that can't be a good sign... 


	20. And Here's the Storm

*Disclaimer* I don't OWN LotR. I'm merely BORROWING it.  
  
A/N: Chapter 20! Wow, I feel very...special. And empowered! Read on!  
  
Chapter 20-And Here's the Storm  
  
The first thing she sensed, upon awakening, was hurry. Everyone around her was hurrying. Narle was the first person she saw, but the girl was soon shoved out of the way by Tracie, who was wearing a green tunic over a chainmail shirt, archer's arm guards, brown breeches, and a braided leather belt from which hung her knife, her belt pouch, and small locket that held a lock of hair from the great lady herself, Galadriel. A quiver of arrows was slung over her back, and her bow was lying, unstrung, on a table.  
  
"Rose! Rose, thank the Valar you're all right! I can't believe it. The Riders are attacking! They're in the Glade!" She sat upright, wincing from the pain.  
  
"What? They're in Wanderer's Glade?!" Tracie nodded, tears in her eyes.  
  
"Everyone's in Awaren's home, we are now. They're only on the borders, but they'll come closer unless our archers can do something about it. I'm so afraid, Rose, I've never been so afraid in my life."  
  
"Dam, Meira, Ellie. What about them?"  
  
"They're fine, all of them." She relaxed slightly.  
  
"Okay. That's something good. Anybody else injured?" Tracie shook her head.  
  
"No. So far, you're the only casualty. Their bows don't have much range on them." She frowned. Something was niggling at her mind, something important. Bows...arrows...something important. She looked out the window, drawing her knees under her chin, no matter how much her stomach protested. The Riders were clustered on an open space in her vantage point, losing arrows in the water. Then, she had it. Arrows. Water. Black steel. She looked to see if she was wearing the same clothes she came in. She wasn't.  
  
"Where's my belt pounch? I need my belt pouch!" Tracie, looking puzzled, handed her the small leather pouch. She rummaged around until she found the arrow head Awaren had extracted from her arm. Tracie's puzzlement grew.  
  
"What could you possibly want with that?"  
  
"No time. Give me one of your arrows, now!" Slowly, Tracie pulled out a feather flighted arrow, one of her best. "Perfect," she said, checking how straight it was. Then, she snapped the arrowhead off.  
  
"Hey! What did you do that for, anyway?" She didn't pay any attention to her friend's misgivings, but took a bow-string from her pouch and started tying the arrow on to the shaft. Tracie was still mourning the loss of the arrow. "That was a really good arrow head, sharp as anything! Who gave you permission to snap it like a twig?"  
  
"Hush! Are they still shooting arrows in the water?" Tracie didn't even have to look out the window to answer that one.  
  
"Yes. They should just give it up; only a few of their bows could hope to make this range." Rosellyn smiled grimly.  
  
"Excellent. Are they all in that open area?"  
  
"No. Some of them are hiding in or behind the houses, the officers and such."  
  
"The Warlord?"  
  
"No sign of him. We think he's still in the forest."  
  
"Figures. Did Awaren leave any medicine for me?" Narle took over at this point, administering potions and rebandaging the wound. The second she was done, Rosellyn swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.  
  
"Are you sure this is..."  
  
"Wise? Perhaps not. But younger Elven are not renowned for their wisdom. Where's Legolas?" Tracie looked helplessly confused.  
  
"I thought you were..."  
  
"Where is he?!" Something in her voice made her friend back off.  
  
"Out with the archers," said Tracie, thoroughly cowed. Rosellyn made her way to the door without any trouble, blessing Linka and her medicinal skills. She made her way out to a platform where archers clustered like hidden grapes, keeping a healthy rain of arrows going at the Men on the opposite shore. She picked her way along, crouching so as to keep out of sight. She finally found Legolas, checking the tension on his bow-string.  
  
"Hey, Greenleaf, can I borrow you for a minute?" He didn't look up from his work, keeping his eyes downcast and his voice deadly soft, his words sounding like he had carefully chosen every word he spoke.  
  
"What use would you have of a close-minded Elf, mistress Stillwater?" She felt hurt, wondering if that was called for.  
  
"All right, I'm sorry I called you names. But this is strictly business, master Greenleaf, and it would be the best for all of us if we put personal matters aside and dealt with the threat at hand." A slight smile tugged on his lips.  
  
"Lead on." She pulled him to the back, not wanting to risk the black steel's effect too early. They sat down in the doorway.  
  
"What range do you have on that bow?" she asked, gesturing to the weapon he was cradling protectively in his lap.  
  
"Maybe...four hundred yards. It's not the best, you know."  
  
"It'll do. They fire fast?"  
  
"Fast as they come."  
  
"Perfect. I need you to do me a little favor..." She showed him her black steel arrow. "Shoot this. Don't shoot to kill, just get it in the ground as far into that group as you can make it go." Slightly confused, he nevertheless obeyed, notching it to his string.  
  
"As far in as it can go, you say?"  
  
"As far in as it can go," she affirmed. He nodded and stood up in plain view, stretching the bow to its limit. Then he let it fly.  
  
All action stopped as they watched the lake waters rise, just as she knew they would, by the attraction of the black steel. The arrow did not, as she had feared might happen, get caught by the rising water. It buried itself in the ground right in the middle of the army. A humongous tidal wave crashed over the Men. Legolas stood, transfixed, still holding the bow in a released position.  
  
"You know, I forgot it did that," he said weakly. All activity had reached a lull, everyone staring at her. Well, all the Elves were. The Men were torn between staring at Legolas and inspecting or robbing their fallen men-at-arms.  
  
"Hopefully, it might take the wind out of their sails for awhile. I only wish we had more. Well, I mean, I'm not hoping they shoot me more, but I wish we had more arrows like that. Are they still shooting black steel arrows?" Legolas still wasn't answering, so a nearby Elf obliged.  
  
"Not that we can tell. Only one or two have actually made it this far, mistress, and they are made of your ordinary steel." She nodded acknowledgement.  
  
"Thank you. Legolas, stop staring, or you'll be catching flies in a moment." His mouth snapped shut abruptly, and he seemed to come back to himself.  
  
"I wish you'd warn me before you pull a stunt like that," he said softly.  
  
"Sorry, but you would have gone on and on, and held it up even more. No, don't bother defending yourself, you know that's true." For the second time in as many seconds, his mouth snapped shut.  
  
"I wish you didn't know me so well." ~Wish I knew you better~muttered Della. She had a risqué streak sometimes that surprised Rosellyn.  
  
"I believe that's what I always say. But if I didn't know you so well, life wouldn't be so much fun." Legolas's face fell, as if he suddenly remembered that he was mad at her.  
  
"Maybe war might be fun to you. Play your games, mistress Stillwater. I have business to attend to right now." Her euphoria ebbed suddenly, and her mood hit an all time low. That rebuttal sent her into a rut.  
  
"Oh," she said softly. "I'm sorry to disturb you, then, master Greenleaf." He looked up suddenly, as if to say something, but then he just looked down again. She nodded and strode off, hurt, confused, and tormented in the thought that she probably deserved everything he was giving to her. 


	21. Unexpected Advances

*Disclaimer* No more cutesy phrases. I just don't own anything.  
  
A/N: Sorry to hear about any internet trouble anyone might have had; I had no problem seeing the chapter myself, but be that as it may... Things get very interesting here on out. Enjoy! Read on!  
  
Chapter 21-Unexpected Advances  
  
The seige looked ready to last for quite awhile, and if it went on too long, the Elves would most definitely be at a disadvantage. The Riders could get whatever food they wanted from the forest, as well as wood for weapons. If they constantly shot arrows, the Elves would slowly but surely run out. But the Riders' bows had little to no range, so they just sat around all day and watched the Riders lose arrows. For the more seasoned Elves, this was great fun. They would bet on how far they would go, and swap little things as wagers.   
  
Legolas, at the other end of the spectrum, seemed in a constantly sour mood, baffling Tracie and Forest, not to mention Rosellyn herself. Benvenue, however, offered a constant shoulder to cry on, and she often took advantage of that. She didn't tell everything, of course; her crush on Legolas, and the fears associated with that subject, but she communicated her worries about his dour mood, how she knew it was her fault, how she didn't know how to go about apologizing. He listened sympathetically, dried her tears, tried to make her laugh. The laughing thing worked, at least, it worked some of the time. Other times, she just forced a laugh, even if it made her feel worse. She wouldn't tell him that, of course. He only wanted to help.   
  
And Legolas was wrong. He wasn't weak at all, but a Man of real quality, something you couldn't find in a Man very often. It was during one of these sessions, that seemed her only sanctuary of sanity, that her world was flipped irreversably upside down, more so than when Tracie and Forest caught her 'holding hands' with Legolas.  
  
Under this particular circumstance, it was a combination of things that sent her running. Besides her ever-lasting friendship crisis with both Legolas and Forest, Dam was on the edge of her nerves, as all the non-combatants were, and yelled at her, saying things Rosellyn knew she didn't mean, but it hurt all the same, and screaming into her pillow hadn't helped this time, and only got her roommates mad at her. So, she sought out Benvenue in his room and knocked on the door. He opened it, and looked somewhat surprised to see her.  
  
"Oh, well, miss Rosellyn, hello. I mean, good morning. Vedui." She smiled slightly at his attempt at Elvish. Men always thought they were as good as fluent, but his accent was simply terrible.  
  
"Hello, Benvenue." She hesitated, wondering what to say next, but he read her mind for her.  
  
"Do you need to talk again?" She nodded gratefully.  
  
"If-if you're not busy, that would be wonderful." He shook his head and stepped outside, closing the door.  
  
"Not at all. It's not particularly safe for me to join the fighting, and even reading the works that you have here gets dull after awhile. I welcome the change of scenery." She had to concur. Della's little novel project was growing by leaps and bounds, but having nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs all day was maddening. Awaren said that she and a group of other teenagers were 'back up defense' in case something happened, and they should stay fresh, but she wasn't a complete fool. Almost all of them were female, and Awaren didn't want girls to fight. ~We can fight just as good as Legolas and any of them!~ thought Della angrily, as she always did when the subject came up. As she had hastened to add to the story, in this place she came from called America, women could do anything men could do. Sometimes, the place sounded too good to be true. Other times, she wondered how they could ever survive, being bumbling and stupid.  
  
"You're a lifesaver, Benvenue, you really are." To her amusement, he actually blushed. Men could be so confusing, and not just the species. Males in general were the silliest people in Middle Earth.  
  
"Well, I think that's a bit over doing it, miss Rosellyn. I just try to help out a friend in need. Do...do you think..." He seemed to be reluctant to spit it out. She looked at him, mentally egging him on.  
  
"I do think, sir, but what is it in particular that you would like to know?" He looked silly, a grown Man blushing so much.  
  
"I-I apologize. Do you think that it would be safe to maybe find a platform?" She laughed dryly. That was all? By the Valar, Men were strange creatures.  
  
"You mean one that isn't occupied by archers? I don't know. Well," she stopped, hesitating. There was a chance...  
  
"Well what?" he asked, a bit more like his former self. That assured her enough to continue the thought.  
  
"There's a platform that maybe only the younger Elves and Linka and Awaren know about, but it's exposed if the Riders are on that side..." Voicing her doubts out loud made them all the more obvious. Benvenue, however, shrugged, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her off.  
  
"Being shot at is preferable to sitting here until I die of old age, miss Rosellyn. Lead on." She wrenched her arm free and walked off in the opposite direction.  
  
"That's all well and good, but it's this way." He laughed, a real laugh, and followed. It was nice to make him laugh. She led him through the maze of hallways. She had never thought of it as such--a maze--but the more she became cooped up in here, the more obvious it became that the walls were closing in. Della called it something weird--claustrophobia, that was it,--but Men were always just trying to make things more confusing than was strictly necessary. This hallway was eerily empty. Where the Riders making an attack? She didn't quite understand this. The Riders must have some sort of plan, or they wouldn't have dared to try and seige them. But so far, all they did was sit and uselessly try to shoot arrows at them. That couldn't be their plan, to make the Elves die of starvation. It was very unsettling. The more she tried to follow that thought, the more confused she became. Not to mention frustrating. What WERE they up to?  
  
No, she shouldn't think about that. This was her time to unwind, enjoy Benvenue's company. She DID enjoy it, truth to tell. She needed this, to keep her sanity.  
  
She stopped by what looked like an empty stretch of wall. Was this it? She wasn't sure. She felt very confused today. No, this was it. Benvenue looked at her questioningly, but she ignored his attempts to interrogate her. She ran her hands over the decorative frieze. This had to be it; confused or not, she couldn't possibly forget this. Her hands stopped moving and she looked over her shoulder at Benvenue.  
  
"I'll take this time to point out that I was born and raised here, spent all of my childhood in this house. Now, do you have anything intelligent to add to this conversation?" She turned back around, hearing his teeth click shut. Most satisfying. There, she had it. The body of a creature that surely didn't exist--though Della insisted it was something called a tiger, whatever that was--was a handle. She gripped it and pulled, listening to Benvenue's gasp of surprise with smug complacency. It was always fun, putting males in their place. Which was, of course, below the females. Of course.  
  
Making an elegant curtsy, which she only ever did in class before this, she showed him out. She wondered why she didn't wear dresses more often; the elegant sigh of her skirts was wonderful as she swept her finest.  
  
"This way, heruamin Benvenue. The hidden platform of Linka's home." Shaking his head in amused amazement, Benvenue stepped through.  
  
"Ah, you honor me, arwenamin Rosellyn. That is quite clever." Giggling, she spoiled the moment and haphazardly yanked it shut behind them. She didn't notice, however, that it had bounced open from her inattention to pulling it hard enough.  
  
There were Riders, but few enough, and from this distance, they might mistake Benvenue for an Elf. They certainly weren't shooting, or doing anything threatening. Perhaps they hadn't even noticed their arrival. She had to hold to that 'perhaps'. Benvenue scanned the shore line, face tightening at the sight of the Riders. However, he merely looked at her over his shoulder and smiled.  
  
"That dress is quite beautiful, miss Rosellyn. The green brings out your eyes." She had been told this thousands of times before, of course, but she curtsied again. The sound the cloth made made her feel like a real lady.  
  
"You are too kind," she murmured, just as her teacher had drilled into her head. She would never have thought that she would ever have to use it, but she blessed her for it. Then, she giggled and sat down cross-legged on the edge of the platform. It was graceful, compared to Benvenue's awkward attempt to duplicate the action. Why she noticed all this was startling to her. She had never met a Man in her life before this, she had grown up completely among Elves. She had never thought of herself as very graceful; if anything, she was counted a bit clumsy. Legolas, of course, had a natural grace about him that she definetely did not posess. But next to Benvenue, she was just as graceful as Legolas. Very odd, indeed.  
  
"Miss Rosellyn..." She jerked her eyes away from the camping Riders. "You...are a very...interesting...young lady." She frowned slightly. This was very unlike him.  
  
"Well, thank you. Is that a compliment?" He tripped over his tongue responding.  
  
"Yes, yes, of course! But...yes, a compliment." He fell silent. She chewed her lip worriedly. Della was poking at the back of her mind, trying to say something. She shoved her friend's voice back to the smallest of annoyances.  
  
"Benvenue, are you feeling all right?"  
  
"Yes. I've never been better, miss Rosellyn. But..." Slowly, still frowning and chewing her lip, she started to stand. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. "No, please, don't go. Stay here. I'm trying to say something, but I'm obviously not doing a very good job of it." Just as slowly, she sat down.  
  
"Okay, I'll stay. But here's a tip: spit it out." He smiled slightly.  
  
"As you say, I'll spit it out. But I don't think I'll find this easy." He took a deep breath. But couldn't say any more. She rolled her eyes. Della started screaming, but Rosellyn grimly shoved her back even further. With a small wince, Della had apparently re-discovered the needle poking trick. But with the way she was shoved back, it was only a mild discomfort. Nothing Della had to say could be this important.  
  
Suddenly, with scant warning that even her Elven senses hadn't attuned her to, Benvenue grabbed her arms and pulled her close. He was KISSING her! With the shock, Della emerged once again. ~Why the hell don't you *listen* to me?! I was trying to tell you that he was about to do that! Yeesh, next time, why don't you listen when I try to tell you something?!~ Rosellyn was in no mood whatsoever. -You know what, this is really not a good time, okay? Maybe later.- If Della had eyes, she would have been rolling them out of her head.  
  
A/N: And things don't just stop there... 


	22. Rotten Timing

*Disclaimer* If I owned Legolas, I wouldn't be here. Sad to say, I don't, so you're stuck with me.  
  
A/N: This chapter is short, but quite important. Read on!  
  
Chapter 22-Rotten Timing  
  
The halls were empty, all the fighters were out. None of them should be in the halls. Yet Legolas Greenleaf was. He couldn't just watch the Riders shoot arrows, it was a waste of strength and time. Pointless. He couldn't turn it into a sport, like the older fellows. It held no appeal for him. It was all too easy to sneak away, and if anyone missed him, well, that wasn't his lookout. Maybe he could find Tracie. She was always ready to talk. Forest, maybe? No. They had a truce, of sorts, with the seige, but he was still at odds with the boy; if he wasn't related to Tracie, he really would have had as little contact with him as possible. Or Benvenue.   
  
Inwardly, he snarled. Men! Why did Awaren let him come here? Men were the reason he was stuck inside here! What made Awaren think that Benvenue was a shining exception? Whyever did Rosellyn stick up for him? Rosellyn. There was another thorn in his side. He had never fought with her, ever. But ever since Benvenue showed up...perhaps that was unfair. No, it wasn't! Gondor or Rohan, Men were all the same. Couldn't she see that Benvenue was just trying to take advantage of her? Wait, why should he care? If she wanted to cuddle up to a Ranger, that was her perogative.  
  
He sighed. He needed to think of something happier. But it was hard to come by happy times now. Besides, since he had been on the subject, all the happy memories he could dredge up were of Rosellyn. Rose and Tracie. Playing pranks on the teachers, competitions in archery, spying on the Riders. He had never been as happy as when he was out spying with them. Tracie...Tracie was wonderful. She was pretty, for one. Not many Elves had red hair nowadays, and hers was a bright, fiery hue. And her eyes...but as he envisioned those big hazel eyes, his mind turned to other things. A pair of bright green eyes, looking hurt. He had hurt her.  
  
No! He needed to stop thinking about that. He needed something to get his mind off of things. He wanted to go to the practice areas and shoot something. But the practice areas were on the mainland. He shouldered his bow. He would go on one of the platforms, and shoot at the Riders, pretending each one was Benvenue. Yes, that idea had merit. He changed course and headed for a platform. Unconsciously, his feet led him to the platform that he had brought Rosellyn to after she had woken up from the attack on herself and Tracie. Why hadn't he gone for Tracie and Forest that day? Rosellyn was his best friend. Had been his best friend. What had he done?   
  
He cursed himself and began to walk away, but something caught his eye. The hidden door was cracked open. He smiled slightly. Some little Elves running away from chores, most likely. HE certainly knew what that was like, having done that several times in his own youth. But really, if they wanted to keep the place secret, they would have to be more careful than that. Maybe it was Meira and Eleria. They were adorable little Elflings, really, and he enjoyed playing the baby-sitter. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall seeing them since yesterday afternoon; they were most likely running away from Damita, who he heard was in a rare bad temper. He wanted to be a father very badly; he made a vow to himself long ago that he would never, ever drive his children away like that. He peeked around the corner, hoping to catch them by surprise.  
  
A/N: This is the first and only time from Legolas's POV. But...ouch. What is he going to do when he catches up to her? With their tempers, it won't be pretty. 


	23. Trauma on the Platform

*Disclaimer* I have nothing of value.  
  
A/N: Yeah, things are definitely getting complicated right about now. And poor, confused Forest...read on!  
  
Chapter 23-Trauma on the Platform  
  
Delaney used Rosellyn's utter shock to force control away from her and firmly shoved him away. Actually, it was more like shoving herself away; she overbalanced and toppled in the water. Oh, that couldn't be good. Was there more black steel in there?   
  
She shook her head in amazement. Her world had been turned upside down and smacked around brutally, but all she could think of was bloody black steel. She no longer thought of herself and Rose as two separate people anymore. What happened to Rose happened to her, and vice versa. No, there was no black steel, no invisible taint on the bone-chilling water. She swam a few yards away, wondering how long she could keep treading water. The lake was thought to be fathomless by some; even if Linka or Awaren knew how deep it was, it was still a long way down to the bottom if her strength flagged.  
  
"Miss Rosellyn, please..." She swam out a bit further.  
  
"Stay away!" she yelled stupidly. Like he was really going to come after her in freezing cold, bottomless water. But, as he had started forward, that seemed to be most likely his intention.  
  
"I'm sorry if I've upset you any, but...I love you...no, don't go! Here, let me help you up." She shook him off coldly, not going one stroke closer to the platform. As Delaney, she had never heard anyone except her mother tell her 'I love you.' She was struck dumb, truth to tell, but she tried not to show it.  
  
"No! Please, if you care for me at all, you'll just leave me alone!" She started swimming away, around to another platform, where she could climb up, lock herself in her room, and never come out again. Yeah. That seemed like a good idea just now.  
  
"Rosellyn! Rosellyn, wait, please..." As his anguished cry faded, she realized that, for the first time, he had not called her 'miss Rosellyn'. No, it was just plain Rosellyn. What was she doing? What did it matter what he called her? Talk about lessons in Stupidity 101.  
  
She found her way to another platform, though she had probably, in her preoccupation, taken the long route. Shivering, and not only from the cold water, she hauled herself up, and not without some difficulty. She had okay upper body strength, as such things went, but the platform was still a fair way up, and she had exhausted a goodly amount of her strength swimming over here. But, she still staggered a bit as she tried to stand. It was only swimming that had made her so weak-kneed, of course. Only that. Nothing else but the swimming. She collapsed in a heap on the platform. Well, maybe not a heap. It was more like falling into a sitting position, then to a lying-down position, closing her eyes.  
  
"R--Rosellyn?" The hesitant voice surprised her. In her current state, she was in no mood to look up, or even try and recognize the voice.  
  
"If you have any mercy," she croaked, not looking anywhere but up, "you'll leave me to die." It was FOREST, of all people. Between him, Legolas, and Benvenue, she couldn't decide who she wanted to see least. If she saw Legolas, she'd blush and stammer until the story came out. She would kill herself if Legolas got even a hint of what was between her and Benvenue. Forest was just...Forest.  
  
"Forest...what are you doing here?" That was enough to make her sit up, at least.  
  
"Uh...well, I suppose I could ask you the same thing. You're soaking wet! What happened? You look like someone dropped you down a mine and then stepped on you." She almost smiled. Almost. No matter what happened, Forest would never change a hair. Unfortunately, that also meant that he would be as blunt as a cliff side.  
  
"Close enough. I really don't want to get into details, all right?" He looked puzzled, but nodded.  
  
"If you're sure, but you really look..." he stopped and found another phrase. "You really look like talking would help." She shook her head with a half-smile.  
  
"Trust me on this one. Why are you here? I'd think that Awaren would have you on sentry duty for sure." He grimaced for some reason.  
  
"Oh no, he put me on the 'reserve squad' for no better reason than that I'm related to Tracie, and he has to put SOME boys in it, or everyone will definitely know he's descriminating. As if they don't know already..." he trailed off. She nodded sympathetically, her American civil rights self emerging.  
  
"People have fought tirelessly for women's equal rights, but they might as well have been talking to a wall. They've gotten just as much response. You know what, Forest? I never realized it until the Riders, but..as a leader, Awaren is kinda bad at this." He laughed loudly at that.  
  
"Only 'kind of'? That's just a bit of an understatement! Maybe we could get Thranduil? He seems an okay fellow, and Legolas is always talking about how they have a prince somewhere in their family. Can you just imagine it? Our Legolas, a PRINCE of all things? Oh, sorry, I'm off on a tangent. But you're right, of course. There's nothing like hard times to bring out the best--or worst--in an Elf."  
  
"Too true," she murmured, thinking of Legolas' unfair treatment of Benvenue. No! She shouldn't think about EITHER of them! She realized she was blushing fiercely.  
  
"Okay, this is getting silly. Rose, what is the matter with you?" She shook her head furiously. On a list of people she couldn't confide in about this, Forest had to be right at the top, somewhere with Awaren and Nazgul.  
  
"Please, just don't--" The door to the platform flew open, just as something jumped from the balcony above and landed, barely making a sound. Delaney struggled to her feet. What in Middle Earth were the odds that Benvenue AND Legolas would find her at the same time? She didn't know what Legolas wanted, but he didn't look happy.  
  
Benvenue didn't look particularly thrilled, either. She shifted her eyes from one to the other as they started to press in, one completely oblivious to the other.  
  
"What do you think you were doing?!" They both shouted at the same time. It was then that the young Elf became aware of the Ranger's presence, and vice-versa. If Legolas didn't have death in his eyes, she might have laughed. Forest, poor, confused Forest, looked back and forth, from the males to her, like a spectator at Wimbledon. ~At what?~ asked Rose, completely lost. Delaney shook her head, as though Rose could see her, then stopped as she remembered where she was and who she was facing. Legolas and Benvenue switched their glares from herself to each other.  
  
"Why do you want to know?" they both asked at the same time. Again, if the situation had been a hair less serious, she would have laughed at their knack of saying the same thing. Legolas might not like Benvenue, she thought, but they were alike in more aspects than they themselves knew. Benvenue took a deep breath, evidently trying to calm himself. Legolas didn't indulge in any such ritual.  
  
"Excuse me, master Greenleaf, master Forestwood, but I would speak with miss Stillwater alone, if possible." He talked as though it hurt to keep that much politeness in his voice. Legolas' face hardened, and he grabbed Forest by the elbow as he tried to leave.  
  
"No," he said, voice as hard as his face, "not possible." Suddenly, escaping by water seemed to be a very good idea. She started to slowly edge away, hoping to be unnoticed. But, she hadn't moved more than about two inches when Legolas's other hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. "And I believe you'll be staying too." And she thought she was so close. Benvenue looked ready to bite through steel.  
  
"Master Greenleaf, I don't know what business you have with Miss Stillwater, but I have something pressing to discuss with her." Forest seemed to snap. For him, anyways. He yanked free of Legolas's grip and started waving his arms.  
  
"For the love of the Valar, they have names! That's Legolas, that's Rosellyn. We're not some stuffy dignitary, for the love of all that is sacred!" Everyone stared at him. "But, I'm just going to shut up and sit on the sidelines now. As you were." Legolas dismissed him from acknowledgement and turned to Benvenue.  
  
"Well, that's just too bad for you, sir, because I beat you to her." Benvenue opened his mouth angrily, but closed it. Then, he looked at Legolas with a slight smile on his face. Almost vaguely...smug. Delaney was completely lost, but a muscle in Legolas's cheek started to twitch, and Forest became wide-eyed.  
  
"No, I believe that I beat you to her." Legolas made an involuntary jerking motion, as if to draw an arrow from the quiver. Rose acted through her and took advantage of the preoccupation. Her leg shot out, and she tripped Legolas. She dodged around Benvenue and Forest and leapt onto a decorative overhang. Kicking madly, she managed to both deter anyone else trying to pull her down and pulling herself up.  
  
"Since you both seem to love talking as though I'm not here, why don't I just not be here? Forest, I think you can leave whenever you want. It could turn very ugly, very quickly. Have fun, you two." Legolas tried to jump up to her. She kept climbing up.  
  
"Rose! Wait, Rose, get back here!" She climbed a little higher, just in case he really did try to come after her.  
  
"Keep dreaming!" she yelled, and hopped around the building to her room and toppled in. Her two roommates glared at her.  
  
A/N: Trust me, this won't be solved as easily as running away. Legolas is going to make sure of that! 


	24. Harsh Words, Harsh News

*Disclaimer* See proceeding chapters. There's 23 of them.  
  
A/N: Here it is, Rosellyn and Legolas's big confrontation! Ooh! Read on!  
  
Chapter 24-Harsh Words, Harsh News  
  
"Rosellyn, don't you know it's dangerous out there? You could get shot! And it would be a crime to have a scar on that face, you know. And you're soaking wet! You should dry off immediately, or the dirt in the water could ruin your hair's texture!" That, delivered in almost one breath, was from Fia, or Feanara. The first time Rose heard that, she had nearly died laughing. Feanara meant "Spirit of Fire". A noble name, but completely lost on the shallow and flighty Fia. Her other roommate, and the oldest of all of them at 1,747, was Pellameliel. She merely looked up from her book, sniffed, and said,  
  
"Use the door like a normal Elf," then she went back to her book. She was an arrogant bookworm at the best of times. At least she hadn't decided to lash out at her this time. When that happened, it could get really nasty, as Pella was never one to mince her words.   
  
Delaney walked over and locked the door. Fia and Pellameliel looked at her strangely, then went back to what they were doing; Pellameliel to her book and Fia to brushing her long pale hair. Knowing Fia, she had probably been doing that since she woke up this morning.   
  
Delaney sat down on her bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. She had learned the hard way that this was the best course to go down. She pulled out her manuscript and began to write again. But Fia must have been in an especially prickly mood today, because Delaney wasn't five minutes into it when Fia turned and said,  
  
"Must you write? That perfectly horrid scratching sound that pen makes is simply ruining my concentration." Delaney looked at her in frank astonishment.  
  
"How much concentration does it take to brush your hair?" she asked. Fia sniffed.  
  
"No matter. But it's not a very good talent, writing. It doesn't win the affection of a boy, you become a dusty old codger of a bookworm," at this, Pellameliel glared poison but didn't comment, "you get those perfectly awful ink-stains on your hands-however do you get them out? It can't be good for your skin-and it's making me crazy!"  
  
"While I realize that those are all very compelling reasons and that I would have to be outside my mind to refute their logic, I'll take my chances with refuting." And she turned back to her writing. Fia sighed loudly and threw down her hairbrush. Pellameliel looked up and said, in her normal, bored, lazy tone of voice,  
  
"Congratulations, Rosellyn. You've gotten her to do what only a male or a force of nature greater than an earthquake could do. And here I was, thinking that hairbrush had become permanently fused to her palm." With every word that came out of Pellameliel's mouth, Fia looked more and more indignant, until finally she just stood up and flounced out the door...or tried to, anyway. She had unlocked the door and was about to stalk out angrily, but she opened the door right as Legolas was going to knock. Which resulted in Fia getting whacked upside the head because he had his momentum going. Whether faked or real, Fia fainted dead away. Pellameliel was slightly in awe of Legolas, as were most females in Mirkwood, but that did nothing to soften her acid tongue.  
  
"So, master Greenleaf, I should commend you on a job well done. The room is that much quieter now. Perhaps a medal is appropriate in this case...?" Legolas smiled briefly at her.  
  
"Still knocking down walls with your stare, Pella? Good to know some things never change. You can keep the medal, by the way." With Pellameliel's pale complexion, she didn't blush much, but she came dangerously close at Legolas's roundabout compliment and use of her nickname, which Delaney hadn't heard her let anybody use except her mother and father.  
  
"I do what I can, Legolas. I have a feeling that you didn't come just to liberate us from Fia, as appreciative as I am. What can we do for you?" Delaney looked at the window, wondering if she could escape through there. Legolas looked directly at her.  
  
"Pellameliel, could you excuse us for a moment, or would you like us to step outside?" Pellameliel gave Delaney a sharp look, then turned back to Legolas, all sweet smiles, eager to please.  
  
"Well, I would really hate to put down my book; I'm getting to the best part, you know." The smile she gave would have charmed the birds out of the sky, though slightly tinged with fake regret. Pellameliel was the only Elf Delaney knew who could pull off such a spectacular performance at being a general pain in the butt. As reluctant as she was to face Legolas, Delaney suddenly found herself bundling Pellameliel out of the room as fast as the girl could be dragged.  
  
"Well, far be it from me to disturb your reading! Why don't you go outside, it's nice and quiet out there! Hey, you can go and try to bring Fia around, okay? See you then, have a good time, don't let the door hit you on the way out." Pellameliel's protests fell on deaf ears as she was shuffled out. Delaney slammed the door and locked it securely. The last thing she needed was someone barging in. "You were saying?"  
  
Legolas looked at Rosellyn, a touch of mirth in his dark eyes. But only a touch. He was mad as all get out, and there was no Forest to distract him. Suddenly, she felt like a complete idiot for letting Della lock the door.  
  
"Rose...I've known you for--forever, it seems like, and...no. By the Valar, I'm going about this all wrong! What were you thinking?" he suddenly shouted. She took a step backwards. She had never seen him this angry, never.  
  
"Well...uh...right now, I'm thinking that maybe I'll take my chances out the window..." He grabbed her by the shoulders in a painfully tight grip.  
  
"Stop playing cute! That's not what I'm talking about, and well you know it! What were you doing...why were you..." he took a deep breath, as if gathering himself, "WHY WERE YOU KISSING HIM?!" She tried to jerk backwards, but his grip was too strong.  
  
"How--how do you know?" she gasped. He let his hands fall and he backed off, sitting on the seat Pellameliel had vacated.  
  
"I saw, okay? And I can't believe what an incredible idiot you are to let him do that to you! He'll...he'll ask you to give up your immortality, and then he'll leave you to die, Rose. You don't want to be mortal, do you?" She was starting to feel guilty, but Legoals always had a knack at putting her backbone up. Anger coursed hotly through her veins, and her spine stiffened. How dare he tell her what to do?  
  
"Are you my father, Legolas Greenleaf? How d'you get the nerve to insult my friends, shove my existance from your mind, then come up here and tell me what an idiot I am?! I'll tell you who's the idiot in this room, Legolas, and it isn't me!" He sprang to his feet, but she went on before he could speak. "And my personal affairs are not an open book for you, and I'll thank you to keep out of my life and my decisions! If I want every move I make analyzed, I'll let you know, but don't hold your breath! Leave! Leave now!"  
  
"I'll leave when I'm good and ready to, and right now, I'm not ready!" he yelled.  
  
"Well, since it's my room, I say you are! Now, do I have to show you the door, or can your wonderful still-immortal eyes see it?" He had no reply to that one, save a threat.  
  
"I'll leave, fine," he said, fuming, "Kiss him all you like, marry him, sure! But when you're mortal, and you die lonely, I'll find you or your grave and spit on you!" She crossed her arms and gazed at him levelly.  
  
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out." He swore and headed for the door when somebody began to knock frantically. She swore more vividly than he had and beat him to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. Tracie nearly ran her over trying to get in.  
  
"Rose! Thank the Valar you're here, Pellameliel said I might find you. Rosellyn, something bad has happened, something horrible..." Tracie began to cry. Rose sat down, cradling her gently as Tracie sobbed into her dress.  
  
"Tracie, what can possibly be this upsetting? It isn't Forest?" she asked worriedly, but Tracie just shook her head and gave a watery sniff. "What's wrong, Tracie?" She was crying so hard...Tracie's news wasn't good. "Trace, you have to tell me. What's wrong?" Tracie looked up at her, grim and sorrowful.  
  
"It's Ellie, and Meira. The Riders have captured them. I've only just gotten word." Rosellyn stood shakily, and walked a few quaking steps. Any reply she might have made died on her lips as she fainted, right into Legolas's arms.  
  
A/N: Will it take something as horrible as kidnap to bring Rosellyn and Legolas together? Or will it drive them even further apart? Wow, I should write soap operas, or something... 


	25. A New Plan

*Disclaimer* I own nothing. It's so sad...  
  
A/N: Okay, so let's recap: Benvenue kissed Rosellyn, which Legolas accidentally walked in on, and is now inexplicably angry. In the middle of all the yelling and whatnot, Tracie bursts in and relays the news that Eleria and Meira have been kidnapped by the Riders. What does this mean for Legolas and Rosellyn's relationship? And how did the Riders get their hands on Eleria and Meira to begin with? Read on!  
  
Chapter 25-A New Plan  
  
The next few days were a misery for Rosellyn. The Riders were displaying their prizes for all to see, and demanded a cease-fire. Meira and Ellie were staked out in front of the camp, bound hand and foot. One of the Elves got so angry at the cease-fire demand that he shot the herald clean through the throat before anyone could stop him. In reply, one of the officers drew his knife and shoved it against Meira's throat, forcing her head back. Awaren had remonstrated the Elf and given in to the cease-fire. Meira remained stoic throughout, never once crying, though Ellie often did. Damita was inconsolable. She only picked at her food, refused to see her adopted daughter, and locked herself in her rooms, crying constantly. Linka's attempts at consolation fell flat.  
  
Rosellyn could never remember feeling so helpless. If she could have her way, she'd swim out and rescue her little sisters. But she could hardly challenge the entire, continually growing camp to single combat. Things seemed to just be growing steadily worse and worse. She avoided Benvenue, and made sure he knew that she was, Fia seemed to grow more snobby by the second, Pellameliel was Pellameliel. Plus, the walls seemed to be closing in. This place, which always seemed so large to her, was insufferably small now. She had been everywhere, she couldn't go on the mainland...  
  
On the plus side, now that it seemed she had abandoned Benvenue, Legolas was talking to her again. In fact, he seemed to be the only person that would talk to her. Tracie and Forest would just mumble something under their breath and walk on quickly. Everyone else just averted their eyes and jumped when she addressed them. Linka and Awaren would always glide by when she said hello, and if questioned about it, they would give a false smile and an 'Oh, I'm sorry, dearest, I didn't see you there.' It seemed that they wouldn't see her even if she jumped out in front of them and started shouting.  
  
This was going to drive her absolutely insane.  
  
One day, while talking to Legolas, something popped out of her mouth that she never intended:  
  
"Legolas, if we could escape from here once, do you think we could do it again?" He sat up where he had been lying on the platform and looked at her sharply.  
  
"What do you mean?" She flicked water on his nose, but her heart wasn't in the teasing. She was being serious.  
  
"You know exactly what I mean. Do you think we could get off again?" Legolas looked at her and slowly shook his head.  
  
"Rose, I know you want to help Ellie and Meira, but--I'm sorry--Rose, you can't do everything, help everyone. You just...can't." She shook her head violently, in denial, angry hot tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"Legolas, you don't know what it's like," she said, "You don't know what it's like to be helpless and tied down while people threaten you!" He clasped her shoulder.  
  
"Rose, I was there, no one was going to hurt you." But she ducked away from his comforting hand.  
  
"Did that stop me from being terrified out of my wits? You're a good fighter, but you were outnumbered, and you said yourself: you can't do everything. We're immortal, but we're not invincible. You could have been killed, I could have been killed! Ellie and Meira don't even have the small comfort of having Legolas Greenleaf at their back; they're young, alone, and scared that any day now, someone's going to murder them in their sleep! And if you think that I'm going to just sit back and let this happen, you're damn well mistaken!" He stayed silent for several minutes.  
  
"I'm an only child. I don't know what it would be like to have siblings in this kind of danger. But I know I would try to do something to free them, too."  
  
"Then you'll help me. We need to--" He shook his head.  
  
"I didn't say that, Rose. I would try to do something, but...Rosellyn, Rosellyn, just think for a moment! There's an entire army out there, with more Men coming in by the hour. This isn't like the smaller little camps; if someone sneezed, we'd have more than 2,000 soldiers down on us. You saw them, Rose; they might not be the brightest stars in the sky, but they can use their weapons and their numbers to overcome us."  
  
"Would the older people listen to you, Legolas? How many agree with what Awaren is doing?" Legolas sighed and shook his head.  
  
"Rose, are you listening to me at all?"  
  
"How many?" He took a deep breath.  
  
"Slim to none. Most think we should have struck them in the beginning."  
  
"Will they listen to someone as young as you?"  
  
"Rose..." She pressed on, as though she didn't hear his denial.  
  
"Will they? Or are they more like to listen to someone older?" He looked doubtful.  
  
"Probably someone older, I should think. But..." he hesitated, wondering if he should go on. "Forest, Tracie, the 'reserve squad'...they'll listen. They'll follow me. They don't like what Awaren is doing any more than you or I." Rose completely blocked Delaney out; this was something she had to do on her own.  
  
"The older fighters might listen to a group of you, if you're saying what they want to hear. But I don't know if they'll go against a direct order or not...it's a chance we'll have to take, I guess." Legolas looked out at the army, but she could tell he wasn't really seeing the Men, but rather seeing through them.  
  
"I notice you said 'we'. You've dragged me into something else. But this is different. This is a life-or-death struggle. Don't tell me what your heart is thinking, Rosellyn, take awhile to think about it and tell me what your brain is thinking. To the extent of your knowledge of battles, skirmishes, and strategy: Can we pull this off?" Rose frowned and bit her lip slightly, thinking.   
  
There were almost 2,000 Men in those camps. They had maybe a hundred more Elves than that here. Elves were good archers, pretty good with knives and swords, a match for this army. But the Warlord was smart, and he had captives. Ellie and Meira. And they were at a disadvantage, being in the center of attention here, but...with a good deal of luck and bravery...   
  
She finally consulted Della. -Do you have any brothers or sisters?- Della seemed glad to be heard. ~No. I just live with my mom. My dad left. I think we could do this, Rose. With you, me, and Legolas putting our heads together, these Riders don't stand an icicle's chance in summer.~ Della had imagination, but not enough to delude herself. She could trust her friend's judgement. But still and all, 2,000 Men seemed like a lot...  
  
"Yes," she said finally, "I think we could pull it off." She had never seen him look so grim before, ever.  
  
"I was afraid you'd say that." He closed his eyes. "I'll talk to Forest and the rest tonight." She didn't smile; she couldn't summon up the proper mind-set to smile. But she threw her arms around him.  
  
"I knew you'd help me. I can always count on you." He patted her back comfortingly, and before she knew what was happening, tears she had kept inside all this time flooded out. "Legolas, I'm scared, a million times more scared than when those Riders were making fun of me. Ellie and Meira, they're not even 1,000 yet, and look at them, captive like that. We could make a plan but...but Elves will die, maybe even the Elves we love. I could die, or you, or Tracie, or Forest...a soldier's not supposed to fear death, but what if I died, and Ellie and Meira never got free, or the Warlord never got taken? It would be all for nothing...Elves are immortal, I'm faced with eternity, but if it all got taken away..." He hugged her tightly.  
  
"Don't say that," he said roughly, "just don't. You won't die, and I won't die. We'll make the plan the best one ever, you'll see. You won't die, and Ellie and Meira will be rescued, and the Warlord will be brought to heel. Mirkwood will be free again. It'll all work out, Rose. I swear it will."  
  
A/N: Glad they're back on speaking terms, no? And we still don't know how Meira and Eleria were taken...(Well, you don't; I do. But when will I tell you? That's for you to find out!) 


	26. Oh, the Tangled Webs We Weave

*Disclaimer* See other chapters. Just pick one.  
  
A/N: This is short, but don't worry; I'll add the next chapter, too! And prepare to be surprised. Read on!  
  
Chapter 26- Oh, the Tangled Webs We Weave...  
  
And it seemed that it was. Forest and the reserve squad were more than happy to assist, and they made plans. Plans! It seemed like their were endless plans: plans for the army, plans for the teens, plans that involved just Rosellyn herself. But they had to be made, and they had to be good. They hadn't approached the actual body of the army, yet; they still weren't sure they would be listened to.   
  
Rose was nearly tearing her hair out in frustration; every day that they put it off, the more danger Ellie and Meira had to go through. The soldiers had a saying: "The hardest part of battle is waiting." And so it was.  
  
Rose, Legolas, and Forest were volunteered to go actually talk to the bulk of the army. The logic was that they were the first and foremost in plotting this; it should be them that talked. Rose was more than happy to, as was Legolas, but Forest took some convincing, as did Tracie when she demanded to go along as well. It took all of Legolas' persuasive powers to keep Tracie out of the delegation. But Tracie was talking to her, now, and had gotten over her awkwardness during the extensive planning sessions. One night, the night that Rose was to address the army, Tracie was there, trying to alleviate her nervousness.  
  
"Rosellyn, we could always talk to each other about anything, right? Anything at all? I mean, you know you can tell me anything, right? You told me about Legolas, and that took spine." Rose laughed. A forced, choked laugh, but it was a laugh.  
  
"I didn't tell you about Legolas, you sort of figured that one out on your own." Tracie smiled, but then quickly sobered her demeanor.  
  
"Well, I kept it a secret, didn't I? And I know I can trust you with anything, which is why I am right now." Tracie took a deep breath. "I can't tell this to Forest, because he's my brother, or Legolas. Rose...I think I'm in love." Rose looked at her, mentally urging her on when she paused. But she didn't look ready to go on.  
  
"Well?" she said, "You can't just leave it at that! Who are you in love with? It's not Legolas, is it?" she asked, with a hint of warning. Tracie smiled and shook her head.  
  
"I think I did love Legolas, once. But not anymore." Rose's jaw dropped.  
  
"You loved Legolas?! After all that you've teased me?!" Tracie smiled.  
  
"You would have suspected something if I hadn't. But it's not Legolas." She leaned in, eyes lit up. "Rose, I think I'm in love with Benvenue." For a few seconds, Rose just blinked stupidly. She couldn't have heard correctly.  
  
"Ben-Benvenue Haltier?" she whispered hoarsely, a sort of croaking sound. Tracie looked desperate, and nodded furiously.  
  
"Yes. The Man. Oh, please say you understand, Rosellyn, you have to! Forest would never let me within eyeshot of him, and Legolas...I'm not sure how he'd take it..."  
  
"I'll tell you how he'd take it: he'd flip his top. But...giving up your immortality, Trace, that's a big step..." Tracie nodded miserably.  
  
"I know, I know. I'd have to wait until I was older, but all the same...I love him, Rose, I know I do. I'd rather die with him than just watch him die while I just kept living. This is the real thing, I know it. Do you think he would ever love me?" Rosellyn found herself with an inner battle. -Della? What do you think I should do?- Della's advice on the subject, however, was lacking. ~Beats me.~ Should she tell Tracie about Benvenue's kiss? Did Benvenue really even love her, or was he just some Man dazzled by Elven immortality? Was Legolas right? No, she knew Legolas was wrong; Benvenue was a Ranger, he had honor. But what should she do about Tracie?  
  
"Tracie, if he didn't love you, he'd be a fool. But still, think about what you're doing..." A knock at the door made her mouth go dry. This was it.  
  
"Rosellyn? It's me, Forest. We need to go now." She rose, and was surprised to find that her legs weren't shaking as much as she thought they would. She was actually ready. If she could accomplish this tonight, she would never be afraid of anything again. Not the Riders, not confessing to Legolas, not even the Warlord. Not even death. 


	27. Confrontation

*Disclaimer* ::looks at things I own:: Wouldn't you know it, no LotR...  
  
A/N: Wow, I keep wanting to just keep adding; that would make ya'll happy, but I have to pace myself. So this is all you get today. Sorry! Read on!  
  
Chapter 27- Confrontation  
  
"Rosellyn, go first. This was your idea, so go on. We'll back you up." Delaney nodded silently, watching the Elves of the army eye her appraisingly. She stepped up in front of them, willing herself to breathe normally.  
  
"Hello," she started feebly, "my name is Rosellyn Stillwater." They knew who she was; it was just a useless formality. "I know that some of you aren't happy about the way Awaren handled this entire war." Some nodded, some whispered to their neighbor, some remained stoically silent. "Well...we don't like it, either. We, as in the younger element. And for me, the kidnapping of my sisters clinched it. They might have been doing something they weren't supposed to be doing, but the lack of security was appalling. Not only were two young ones taken right from under our noses, but no one knew until the morning after, when they were paraded around like prizes!   
  
"This does nothing to boost my confidence in our leaders. Myself and the others of the younger generation have been planning for quite awhile, now, plans we need your help to implement. With the help of my friends, Tracehelm Forestwood and Legolas Greenleaf, we'll outline these plans to you tonight, for your approval. Please, decide to help us, or my sisters' days may be numbered, as may those of Mirkwood."  
  
There wasn't any applause, or anything, not that she was expecting it. She was asking them to as good as rebel against their leader; not something to be taken lightly. Forest stepped up and shuffled around some sheets of parchment and began to talk, outlining what they knew of the Rider's strength, and what this could mean for various attack schemes; close combat, pincer movements and so on...  
  
Then Legolas came, with what they had planned; the plans for the main force, for the teens, for small groups. Sorties. That was the weird military name for them. Finally, Legolas finished and stepped down.  
  
"We'd like your answer by tomorrow, at sunset." The Elves stood and slowly filed out the door without saying a word. Forest watched them go, then turned to Delaney once the room was empty.  
  
"Wow. Catch me." Then he actually did fall, forcing Delaney to catch him. She laughed, but got knocked off balance.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, help..." Legolas caught both of them and steadied her enough to let Forest go without hurting anyone. She was about to stand up (even though it was nice having Legolas hold her) when Forest kicked at her ankles, causing her to trip. Which, given her proximity to Legolas, caused him to trip as a consequence. Forest laughed himself sick at the sight of them, until Legolas shot out his arm and yanked on Forest's leg, pulling him down. Delaney, who had the bad fortune to be on the bottom of all this, pleaded for mercy.  
  
"You two, could you please let me breathe?" Legolas laughed.  
  
"Forest, we're suffocating the heroine of the hour!" Forest shrugged and did an elaborately exaggerated stretch.  
  
"Well, I don't know, I'm just so comfortable right now--ow!" Delaney kicked him with all of her force--no mean feat with two boys on top of her.  
  
"You're going to be a lot less comfortable in two seconds if you don't get off!" she grunted. Forest grinned and got up, dusting himself off. Legolas followed, helping her up. Forest stretched, for real this time.  
  
"Well, that was fun. I have to go back, or Tracie is like to explode. Goodnight, you two." He walked out, and Delaney followed. Lately, it was getting harder for her to stay alone with Legolas. She caught up with Forest, and Legolas caught up with both of them, walking in the silent halls.  
  
"Tell Tracie I said goodnight, too, okay? I'm going to--" she never said 'bed.' Benvenue stepped out and joined them. Legolas and Delaney both narrowed their eyes at him at the same time. This was the first time he had attempted to talk to her since the whole stupid scenario.  
  
"Your speech was touching, miss Rosellyn. I myself shall rally your cause." She eyed him coldly. She didn't need his support.  
  
"I'm afraid your support won't mean much, sir. But your concern was touching," said Legolas mockingly. Benvenue gave a cocky smile, but it slid when Legolas just gave him a cold look. Benvenue gave him back an equally cold one and walked off. Delaney signed. Males. Who knew why they did anything?  
  
The next day, Rosellyn had woken up with a feeling of heaviness in her chest. By tonight, she would know if her sisters and Mirkwood would be saved, and the Riders sent soundly on their way, or if all would fall to ruin. The adults could see that, couldn't they? They just had to, they had to!  
  
She had spent most of the morning by herself, and intended to remain that way until sunset, but Tracie had disturbed those plans by seeking her out on her favorite platform after the lunch Rosellyn had skipped, and Fia destroyed them completely by following. Hairbrush in hand.  
  
"Rosellyn, whyever weren't you at lunch today?" she said, with poisoned sweetness, "Pellameliel and I sincerely missed your company," she smirked, taking a few swipes at her perfect hair with the brush. Rose scowled; Fia knew full well that Rose had stopped eating with the rest since Ellie and Meira had been taken. Just what she needed to make this day even more perfect.  
  
"Fia, don't make me yank that hairbrush away and toss it in the water." Fia gave her a horrified look and clutched the item protectively to her chest. Apparently, this threat was a thrust way below the belt.  
  
"Now really, that wasn't at all called for! Here I am, trying to send on my deepest sympathies, and all I--"  
  
"Tell someone who cares," said Rose, cutting her off. Fia put her nose up even higher, if that was possible. Tracie, who had up until now stayed silent with her mouth hanging slightly open (Rose had forgotten that Tracie hadn't had much exposure to Fia), perked up right here.  
  
"Hey, put your nose up any more and you better hope it doesn't rain; you might drown." Fia's eyes narrowed, and she examined this new threat, then tossed her head dismissively and turned back to Rose.  
  
"Rosellyn, I must warn you about consorting with the wrong sort of Elf. Or maybe I should warn master Haltier?" she said, her eyes widening innocently. Rose's eyes widened as well, with shock.   
  
How dare Fia bring that up in front of Tracie? Before she knew what she was doing, she jumped toward the snotty, stuck-up, no-decency girl and decked her a good one right on the eye. Fia shrieked and toppled over into the water. The girl knew how to swim; all the Elves here did.  
  
"YOU!" yelled Rose, at the top of her voice, "Don't you ever talk about anything you don't understand, ever! If you ever mention Benvenue again, I'll kill you!" Tracie was looking slightly shell-shocked; of course, she had no idea what Fia was talking about. But Tracie's surprise was nothing compared to Fia; her perfect hair was sopping wet, a bruise rapidly swelling her left eye shut. The hairbrush had been lost in the fall.  
  
"Ohhh," she wailed, "Ohhh, just look what you did, just look! My--my hair, and my eye, oh there's going to be a hideous bruise, isn't there...?" she continued to moan and cry. Rosellyn looked on coldly.  
  
"Tracie, you can help her up if you want. But I never want to touch her again." It occured to her that she was being very cruel and callous, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything that had to do with Fia. Knowing full well she would catch it later from Awaren, she ran inside and up to the room she shared, locking the door and the window, so no one could ever speak to her or hurt her, ever again.  
  
A/N: Trust me; she's not kidding when she says she's going to catch it from Awaren. But you have to wait and find out! 


	28. Going Too Far

*Disclaimer* Too tired to think of something witty. I don't own anything.  
  
A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I'm Daine, from the Tamora Pierce series. Or, since almost no one I know reads them, I'm a wood nymph. Fun stuff. I hope I shock SOMEBODY with this chapter, because it's sort of...well... shocking. Read on!  
  
Chapter 28- Going Too Far  
  
She stepped up to Awaren, looking him in the face defiantly. Linka stood in the background, with Damita, who had finally emerged from her room. Her foster mother looked like a wreck.  
  
"Rosellyn," said Awaren, in a deep, sad, tired voice, "please tell me why you did this." He would never shout at her. She wished he did; then it would give her license to shout back. She twisted her lips. She obviously couldn't tell him the whole truth, so she pulled a story from the air.  
  
"Fia was--was making fun of--Dam, and Meira and Ellie. And I saw red and hit her." There. It was certainly plausible. Awaren shook his head.  
  
"Rosellyn, dear, the enemy is on shore, not in my house, they are the ones we should be fighting--" This was the opening she had been waiting for. She took off.  
  
"Then why aren't we fighting them?! Why couldn't you have taken this attitude in the first place, would've helped a lot! But instead, we sit in here and pick them off one by one! I may not be a genius when it comes to all this, but it seems to me that if we had struck from the beginning, we wouldn't be in this situation! Ellie and Meira would still be here, Dam wouldn't be crying so much, I would be back on the mainland...Awaren, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, this whole fiasco is ALL YOUR FAULT!"  
  
The last words rang in the silence that ensued. Knowing full well that she was pushing her limits, she glared at him. All three adults looked shocked.  
  
"Rosellyn, dear, don't talk to master Awaren like that!" said Dam, absolutely scandalized. "You know he's done everything in his power to prevent this!"  
  
"No, he hasn't!" she said, voice quavering in righteous anger. "Dam, how can you stick up for him? If he had crushed the Riders while he had a chance, your daughters would still be here!"  
  
"Now, I don't think that's entirely fair. Meira and Ellie were ever getting into trouble; it was only a matter of time before something happened." Rosellyn stared at her adoptive mother in frank, unbelieving astonishment.  
  
"Are you listening to yourself?! It shouldn't matter what Meira and Ellie do! I don't care if they took a boat and started sailing! Where's the sentries, that are supposed to watch out for these kinds of things? Why didn't you say something when you realized you couldn't find them? Did you think they had just wandered off?! This is a war, dammit, not playtime! When kids go missing, you look for them! Then we wouldn't have had the wool pulled over our eyes, and now the Riders--"  
  
"ENOUGH!" Awaren's shout cut through her furious tirade. "Miss Stillwater, I realize you are wroth about the kidnapping of your little friends, but I will not stand here and be insulted in mine own house--" There was no stopping her, now.  
  
"Then where shall I insult you? On the mainland? Oh, wait, no, it's being overrun with Riders!"  
  
"NO MORE INSOLENCE! Ever since your mother's death, I have given you an extraordinary leeway when it came to rule-breaking. But outright treason, questioning my decisions that you know nothing about--"  
  
"Somebody's got to question them," she snapped.  
  
"Silence! You will not speak another word, young lady, do you hear me? Not another word! I am putting you in solitary confinement and sentencing you there until I am fit to deal your real punishment. I will make no decisions in anger."  
  
"No, you'll make them in ignorance, apparently." The full-handed SLAP caught her completely unawares, knocking her back, stumbling, until she lost her balance and fell. Her cheek stung like fury, and there would be an attractive bruise to deal with, especially where he had been wearing rings. Was she cut? It felt like it, but she wouldn't check, not with Awaren looking at her.  
  
"Get. Out," he said, clearly pronouncing every word, "Get. Out. Of. My. Room." She struggled to her feet, trying to banish watery eyes. She was not going to cry, she was not going to cry...  
  
Damita looked horrified, but whether it was for Rosellyn's words or Awaren's actions, no one was certain. She stumbled towards the double doors, half-blind where her eye was swelling shut. Before she could touch the handle, though, one of the Elves who had been right outside the door came in. His eyes widened slightly at the sight she must have made, but said nothing.  
  
"Sir?" he asked uncertainly. Awaren tried to put on a semblance of calm.  
  
"Take this girl to one of the empty rooms, and delegate someone to make sure she does not leave it." The soldier's uncertainty increased.  
  
"The only empty rooms are cells, sir." Awaren nodded brusquely.  
  
"That will do. You have your orders. Go." He nodded and grabbed her by the elbow. She winced, but he led her out, not ungently. He said nothing to her the entire walk, and she made no attempts to instill conversation. She thought she saw Legolas, briefly, but she bowed her head so her hair covered her face. She was fairly sure he didn't see her.  
  
The cells were miserable little holes in the wall in the bowels of the great floating house; most were below the water level, making them damp, cold, and nearly uninhabitable. As long as she could remember, these cells had never been used.  
  
She felt no pride in being the first. 


	29. Dreams and Memories

*Disclaimer* I own nothing. Not even a knife from the Renaissance Festival, because my mother keeps telling me no, even though I swore I wouldn't use it on my little sister.  
  
A/N: Dang, I really need to get writing...these chapters are getting shorter. I had a little fun writing this part; in a bittersweet sort of way. Read on!  
  
Chapter 29-Dreams and Memories  
  
Each cell door had a key sticking from the door. Her guard came to the first one and turned the key, unlocking it. Then he simply opened it. She stepped through with trepidation. The place was most likely crawling with bugs, though she wasn't sure how bugs would survive down here. The instant she was in, the door was shut and the key was inserted, turned again, and taken out. The Elf pocketed it and, far from remaining here to guard her, walked off, taking the torch with him. Darkness descended.  
  
She drew her knees up to her chin. It was cold down here. She patted around until she found the driest spot and scooted over that way. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being cold and damp. Being cold and wet, like jumping in the lake, was one thing. This was completely another. This little cell offered all the comfort of Barad Dur. -At least Barad Dur would be warm-, she thought.   
  
She couldn't completely stretch her legs out while sitting, and her head barely brushed the ceiling when she stood. Miserable little hole-in-the-wall, indeed. She wondered if Awaren would feed her. Most likely not; when he was in a foul mood like the one she had put him into, he tended not to care about little things like that. The only furniture, if it could be called that, was a small mattress stuffed with old, moldy dried grass that, while giving off an almost sickeningly pleasant aroma, was about the size of a large pillow, and soaked through.   
  
How long was he going to keep her in here? ~This is the worst place I've ever had the misfortune to be in, and that includes my hell-hole of a school.~ Della commented unhelpfully. Rose shivered. Would Legolas and Forest be able to come down here and tell her the army's decision? Did they even know where she was? She shivered again, and yawned. She propped her back up against the wall, tried to ignore the sting in her face and the wetness seeping through her shirt, and fell into an uncomfortable doze.  
  
In her dream, she was back in Damita's house, playing with Meira, Tracie, and Legolas. She fuzzily wondered, was this a memory? It seemed real. They were all younger, at any rate. Meira couldn't have been more than 500 or so, which made Rosellyn around 900. Dam was always a great friend of her mother's, and was more than happy to babysit all the children. Legolas looked funny when he was young; he had grown out of it when he hit his teens.  
  
"Tracie, Tracie, where's Forest?" asked Meira, somewhat distressed by his absence. Tracie giggled guiltily.  
  
"My daddy took him to Awaren, because he said that Forest was being bad." Legolas's eyes went as round as saucers, what Delaney always called 'chibi-anime proportions', whatever that was.  
  
"What did he do?" he asked in a hushed whisper. Tracie giggled again.  
  
"He called the teacher a bad name, so bad that daddy won't tell me what it was!" This inspired a round of nervous giggles from her audience.  
  
"Rosellyn? Rosellyn, dear, your mother has come, it's time to go home!" Dam's call was the signal for mass escape. Even if Tracie and Legolas weren't going home, and Meira was home, the game was still fun. Rosellyn, giggling madly, tripped over Meira's chubby legs and rolled under the chair in the room the were playing in. Legolas dived in after her. Tracie was long gone, probably out on the veranda, and Meira was trying to hide behind a vase of flowers. Two pairs of feet walked in, one belonging to Dam, the others to her mother. Her mother! She dashed out.  
  
"Mommy, mommy, here I am!" she shrieked, "I bet you couldn't find me and Legolas, we were hidden real good!" Legolas, shaking his head at his younger friend's naïveté, followed out. Rose threw herself in her mother's arms. Rose had her mother's hair and face structure, but Rellyn Stillwater's eyes were a warm brown, not her daughter's spicy emerald. Those, she claimed, were all her father's.  
  
"Oh, why, I had no idea where you were, sweetling! You hide so cleverly, I just know I would have never found you! I hope you never hide from me again, it scared me that I might never find you..." -Find you...find you...-  
  
-Never hide from me...I might never find you, Rosellyn...- Her mother was fading away, her warm arms dissolving. -Mommy, come back, I need you, I'll never hide from you again, can't you find me?- The air was growing colder, and darker. -Find me, mommy, why can't you find me, I'm only 900, you should find me, easy...-  
  
She was in her cell, only it seemed smaller than she remembered, and it was filling up with icy water, up to her chest. She struggled to stand, but seemed rooted to the ground in a sitting position. The water was up to her chin, spilling in from cracks in the mortar, the bars on the door, seeping through the ground. She couldn't move her body below the water, only above it, only her head. She blew it away from her nose, every breath a struggle.   
  
It was above her head. She watched it in an oddly detatched way, as though she wasn't the one drowning. Her mother appeared in front of her, hair wild in the water. She reached out to touch her daughter's face...but her hand vanished, she vanished, Rose was alone again, and drowning. "Find me..."  
  
A/N: I'm not a big canonwhore; would Rosellyn and her friends know what Barad Dur is? I'm thinking they would, but I'm not too sure. Stay faithful, and ye shall be well rewarded! 


	30. Breakout

*Disclaimer* See preceeding chapters. I'm sick of this.  
  
A/N: Short...but don't worry! It gets a lot better! And...wow. Chapter 30. Shweet. Read on!  
  
Chapter 30- Break-out  
  
A rattling noise woke Delaney like the crack of an Istari's fireworks. She looked around wildly. No water, she wasn't drowning! The rattling persisted. She looked up and saw Legolas peering at her through the bars he was rattling.  
  
"You're awake, finally! Do you know what time it is?" Tool time! she randomly thought to herself. Rosellyn sniffed at that out-there comment.  
  
"I assume you're going to tell me." She realized that she really didn't have a clue what time it was. She didn't know if she'd been asleep for five minutes or five hours.  
  
"It's evening! The army gave their answer an hour ago!" She jumped up, or tried to; the space was limited, and her muscles had cramped from inactivity. But she struggled to her feet and made her way to the bars.  
  
"Well, what did they say?" Legolas didn't answer, but his eyes widened, just like they did 400 years ago at Rose's play date. She was confused; was he going to answer or not? What was he staring at? He reached his fingers through the bars and gently touched her face. She winced at the sudden jab of pain that laced its way through her cheek.  
  
"Mother help me, I thought that fellow was just exaggerating..."  
  
"Ah. Yes, my token of Awaren's regard. Don't push that Elf past his limits, there's my advice." Legolas didn't take it as a joke, though.  
  
"This goes too far, Rose, do you hear me? You should see your face, the left side is one massive bruise! This is...unbelievable...but your show of temper clinched the decision; the Elf who escorted you told the whole thing, heard you yelling through the door and saw your 'token of regard.' It was unanimous. The main army will help us." Somehow, though, the news didn't thrill her.  
  
"Yeah, well, fat lot of good I'll be. Hard to assassinate a warlord inside this pit, don't you think?" Legolas gave a slow grin. Rose felt her heart beating a million times a minute, almost painfully, and her stomach was turning somersaults.  
  
"All the more reason to get you out, don't you think?" He, incredibly, held up a rusted key, the one to open the door.  
  
"I will love you to the end of eternity. Get me out." He nodded.  
  
"I thought you would take that view." There was a click, and the door squeaked open on it's equally rusty hinges, so loud that she was sure Awaren would come down and investigate the noise.  
  
"What if Awaren comes to check on me, and finds I'm not here? This is almost mutiny!" Legolas shook his head, apparently unconcerned.  
  
"Nope. Not a problem. Your jail-keeper was told to check on you every so often; nothing came up about Awaren doing anything. So he's just going to give fake reports."  
  
"Now that is mutiny. Lying, directly disobeying orders..." She gave a half-smile. "You're my hero. Let's blow this joint."  
  
A/N: Yes, I know, short. But the next one SHOULD be longer, hopefully. 


	31. Romance

*Disclaimer* Bah. You'd think they'd get it the first 30 times...  
  
A/N: Look, this is longer. Yay? Read on!  
  
Chapter 31-Romance  
  
The idea was to make Rosellyn out as a tragic little hero, with her bruised face and pitiful tale of being the lone voice of truth in Awaren's choir. This required very little effort on anyone's part; she could hardly hide the bruise, and the tale needed no embellishing to make it an outrage to everyone. The army was more than happy to throw their lot in with them, and all the children looked to her as a sign of hope.  
  
This was all very new to her, but she supposed it had been going on almost her entire life. First, the father she couldn't remember had abandoned her and taken her brother and sister. Then, her mother had died on the battlefield, leaving her an orphan. Meira and Ellie, her adoptive sisters, kidnapped by the Riders.   
  
And now, when she was supposed to be the one person Awaren should listen to, the one person who knew more than anyone else about pain and loss, he had hit her, and tried to lock her up. Della said her life was exactly like a soap opera, but that didn't make sense; what did soap have to do with singing, and what did singing have to do with her mother?  
  
But she was kept cooped up, and not much in the thick of things. Awaren, after all, couldn't realize she had gotten out, and going back to her room with Fia was out of the question. So she bunked with Tracie and another girl, pelted with constant warnings to keep the door locked when alone and to stay away from the window. Sometimes she would be alone for days, only seeing Tracie and her roommate when they came to sleep, and sometimes they didn't even do that.  
  
When she did she Tracie, though, she filled her in on what had been happening: plans that the army had made, tweaks to the original ones, all sorts of things, how Awaren still didn't know she was gone. And, inevitably, the conversation always turned to Benvenue.   
  
Under Legolas's insistence, Benvenue still believed Rose to be languishing in the cells, and Tracie reluctantly agreed to go along, though she didn't see why. But she would tell Rose how Benvenue had smiled at her when she gave an idea for something, or how he had complimented her on her hairstyle that day. Rose took this as a hope that maybe he was getting over her and falling for her friend. If they loved each other, it would be one less rat in her hair.  
  
One night, while Rose was writing her book on Della's world, there came a knock at the door. But not just any knock; two taps, a pause, then a real knock. That was Tracie's code for 'Hide, there's someone with me.' Rose threw down her quill and dived under the bed. She heard Tracie say, "Oh, Nellas must be out right now, but you can come in anyway." She peeked through the lacy bed skirt to see who Tracie's mystery guest was. Awaren wouldn't have any business with her, unless he knew...  
  
But it wasn't Awaren. It was Benvenue. He looked fidgety, and out of place, exactly as he looked that day on the platform. She was excited for her friend, and hoped she didn't muck it up.  
  
"Miss Tracie, how kind, but I'm afraid I can't stay long. I...your brother will be looking for you, for certain, and I will not keep you waiting." Tracie giggled.  
  
"Benvenue, the meeting's over, Forest's going to bed, and I will be too, in a minute, so don't worry about him." Benvenue's feet shuffled.  
  
"Ah, of course, I, I should have thought of that, you must think me a fool."  
  
"I don't think you're a fool, just the opposite, in fact. You have some really good ideas for us, you know."  
  
"That's...kind of you to say. Your help is invaluable as well, of course." He moved so his toes were almost touching Tracie's. Seeing as he was somewhat preoccupied, Rose took the chance of poking her head out a little bit, to get a better view of what was going on. Tracie was blushing scarlet and staring determinedly at her own toes, and Benvenue's face was just the opposite, somewhat pale. He fingered one of Tracie's bright red braids. "You have beautiful hair, Tracie." She raised her beet red face to him. "And eyes, as well, and a beautiful face...you are a beautiful girl..."   
  
This seemed all the more fascinating to Della from a spectator's point of view. Benvenue's hand lowered from Tracie's hair to the side of Tracie's face as he spoke. When he trailed off, he pulled her close to him and kissed her softly. ~Well,~ Della observed, ~He pulled that off a lot more gracefully with her than he did with us, I must say.~  
  
But Rose wasn't listening. She also found watching two people kiss strangely interesting. It was a pretty long kiss, and when they finally broke off, Tracie was redder and Benvenue was dead white. But they kissed again, even longer, this time. Benvenue broke it off hurriedly, though. "That--that was going a bit too far. I--I only wished to bid you goodnight, miss Traceheart..." Tracie smiled crookedly.  
  
"I think you can call me Tracie now." Benvenue cleared his throat rapidly.  
  
"Ah--ahem--yes, of course. Tracie. Well, ah, I must be going back, your room mate will no doubt be returning shortly...good night." Tracie waggled her fingers after him as he strode away rather quickly.  
  
"Goodnight," she said in a dreamy voice. As she closed the door, Rose wiggled out from under the bed and pounced on her friend.  
  
"Will you look at that? He's in love with you, Trace!" Tracie stared at her.  
  
"Oh! I completely forgot you were in here! You mean you were watching? Of course you were. But, he kissed me, Rose! Twice! Oh, I don't think I'll ever sleep tonight! How can I? It's been so...perfect and so...wonderful!" Rose bounced on the bed.  
  
"Well? Don't keep waiting, how was it?" Tracie flopped next to her and propped herself up on her elbows.  
  
"Magical," she said, in the same dreamy voice, "just like all the stories Anti used to tell us, and Damita. Wet, too," she added, wrinkling her nose slightly. Rose laughed long and loud at that.  
  
"You are truly something else, my friend," she said. Tracie laughed too, and threw her arms around Rose.  
  
"Aw, thanks. Rose...this is the best night of my life. I never want it to end. For those few seconds, I can forget that we're fighting a war, and all that. That's why I love him, that's why I want to...I want to..." Rose stopped her. She stepped back a little and surveyed her friend.  
  
"Don't say it, Trace. I know what you're going to say, and don't say it, not yet. I know you want to, more than anything, but...if he were an Elf, he would be almost two and a half times your age. That's a big gap. Your parents might not allow it. Wait until after the war, and then we'll see, all right?" Tracie sighed pitifully.  
  
"I know, that's what makes sense, but I don't want to wait, Rose, I want him now." Rosellyn nodded sagely.  
  
"I know you do. But it's foolish to pledge love in the middle of a seige, and that's the plain and honest truth. Let's get some sleep, all right? We're sure to need it. Oh, I've been meaning to ask...do you know how Ellie and Meira were taken?" Tracie's face clouded up.  
  
"I was hoping you wouldn't." She sighed. "The most likely thing is, they probably wanted to be like you, and escape. The sentries probably fell asleep and didn't see them. You know how lax they've been. But no one knows for sure. We'll have to ask them when this is all over." Her optimism was oddly comforting.  
  
"I hope we can, Trace, I really hope we can. Thanks for telling me."  
  
"What are friends for? Now get to sleep. I'm too excited to even think about it."  
  
A/N: There. You get a theory about what happened to M&E. But only a theory. What if something worse is afoot? Oooh. Yes, I do find a sort of perverse pleasure in making people wait... 


	32. Preparing for Battle

*Disclaimer* I don't--heck with that...  
  
A/N: Getting oh-so-close...tantalizingly close...but still not there yet. Ha ha. Get ready for some strange behavior from Legolas, and some frustration by Rose. Read on!  
  
Chapter 32- Preparing for Battle  
  
Two days after that exciting night, the news Rosellyn had been waiting for came to her via Legolas and Tracie.  
  
"Everything is set, Rosellyn. We move out tomorrow night." Delaney was in charge at that moment, and she sat bolt upright in the desk chair, knocking it over in her haste.  
  
"Tomorrow night? You're sure?" Legolas nodded, looking as serious as she had ever seen him look. And that was saying something.  
  
"Positive. The army is ready, our friends are ready, the Valar knows I'm ready, are you ready?" This wasn't a question asked out of nicety; this was a true question. If she wasn't by now, she never would be. She hesitated.  
  
Tomorrow night, the forest realm of Mirkwood might be won or lost.   
  
Tomorrow night, hundreds of Elves might lose their lives.   
  
Tomorrow night, she might lose the ones she loved.  
  
Tomorrow night, she might live...or die...  
  
She couldn't say which scared her more. Delaney was only a girl from Manhattan in an Elf's body. She had read books with fighting in them, but she had never fought in her life, until she joined with Rosellyn. Teenage girls had no business in warfare, but this had become her war, whether she liked it or no. She squared her shoulders.  
  
"I'm ready. Bring it on." Legolas stood briskly.  
  
"Good girl. I knew you would." There was a moment when the three of them stood there awkwardly. All knew that the other was thinking of the disasters that might befall them 24 hours hence. But finally, Legolas took the initiative. "Then...what else can I say? Rosellyn, I probably won't see you until then, so you know what you have to do to get ready. Good luck."   
  
Then, in a move that surprised her, he threw his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, easy enough to do at his height. To her further shock, she felt a dampness in her hair the could only mean he was crying. Legolas Greenleaf was crying? Delaney didn't think a guy like Leoglas ever cried. This was the first time she'd seen him cry, after all, and even Rose said she couldn't recall him crying much. Or ever. She awkwardly patted him on the back several times, not knowing what else to do. He finally released her and gave Tracie the same treatment. Then, without another word, he ran from the room, sprinting like his mother was on his tail in a high fury.  
  
"What," said Tracie, speaking slowly, "was that all about?" Delaney could only shrug helplessly. His strange behavior had unsettled her, but she couldn't help but remember how warm his arms were, and how...right...it felt when he held her. She could still feel a slight warmth where his arms had been, like burning brands pressed to her skin, as though he had passed his body heat onto her. It felt good. And it scared her.  
  
That afternoon, the tension was beginning to take its toll on Rosellyn. Every hour seemed as though an eternity was going by. She flopped on Tracie's bed, tired of pacing.  
  
"This is insane. The waiting is going to kill me." Tracie and Nellas, their roommate, looked at her.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Nellas sleepily, as though Rosellyn's voice had jerked her out of a deep sleep. But Nellas was always like that. Rose wondered if this girl was ever truly awake, or if the muddled quality to her voice was all for show. But Rosellyn went on to explain.  
  
"I mean, when I fought the enemy scouts, I knew they were coming, and everything. But now...I have to wait to go to them, and I can't take it! I'll go mad." Tracie nodded sympathetically.  
  
"I know, but it must be worse for you, seeing as, you know, you can't even go outside and you're stuck in this little box of a room." Rosellyn turned her head to her friend and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Gee, Tracie, you always know just what to say to make me feel better," she snapped. When Tracie looked offended, Rose sighed.  
  
"I'm sorry. That was rude. But if I don't get out of here soon, I'll scream. And then you can go and cover for the noise. Make whatever crazy excuse you like, the more bizarre the better. But I'll scream all the same." Tracie grinned, and Nellas merely looked confused.  
  
"If you had any idea of the excuses we're making for you already, you wouldn't be near so quick to yell. But if you're absolutely desperate, these pillows muffle sound wonderfully."  
  
Rosellyn had to admit, they most certainly did.  
  
A/N: *sings* Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow, you're always a day awaaay... Maybe Della should sing that for Rose...or not. BATTLE IS NEARING!! *cue creepy music* 


	33. Stage One

*Disclaimer* What part of "I own nothing" just doesn't sink in?  
  
A/N: Okay, still no battle. Next chapter, I promise! I won't be updating as frequently, I apologize. I need to write more, and quickly. Read on, my faithful...readers...read on!  
  
Chapter 33- Stage One  
  
But when dusk finally fell, after what seemed centuries, Rosellyn was beginnning to wish it was afternoon again. She wasn't prepared as she had thought. The secret knock came. She looked up as Legolas came in, followed by Tracie and Forest.  
  
"Now or never?" How long ago had it been since she had said that? It was when she broke out of here the first time with Legolas, when she ran into the Riders and had to fight them on the threshold of Dam's home. It seemed like a different lifetime, a different Rosellyn. Legolas nodded, his eyes locked onto hers with a frightening intensity.  
  
"Now or never. We need to wait here for the first signal, then you're clear to leave the room and get this started." When would the signal come? It couldn't come soon enough, but at the same time, she hoped it never came.  
  
The signal was an arrow, fletched with leaves, that thudded into the window sill. Legolas examined the fletching for a moment, then nodded.  
  
"Leaf-flighted. All clear. Let's move. For Mirkwood, my friends." He snapped the arrow in two and hurled it out the window, where it fell with a small, wet smack in the water below. Tracie, Forest, and Legolas were already armed; Rosellyn strung her bow and shouldered a quiver. Diamondsong and Trustworthy were already at her hip, as was a small flask of miruvor, to help keep a clear head. She had even tucked her small throwing knives in her boots; one never knew when they might be needed.  
  
Now that she was properly armed, she felt a rush of confidence. She grinned dangerously and kicked the door open.  
  
"Ready when you are. Let's make the Riders sorry they came calling!"  
  
Rosellyn crouched behind the doorframe, watching the night sentries. They were pretending to be asleep. At least, she hoped they were pretending. Behind them, several Elves readied their bows as speedily as they could without being seen. One of the more senior soldiers had taken command. He looked at them through half-slitted eyes, feigning sleep.  
  
"Ready..." he hissed through the corner of his mouth, "steady...shoot!" Though the command came as a whisper, all heard it. In unison, they stood, aimed briefly, and fired. No more Man sentries to worry about. The older Elf stood and brushed himself off. "Good work. Are the boats ready, Nudringion?" A younger Elf, not long a soldier, saluted briskly. He really wasn't much older than Rosellyn herself, now that she got a good look at him.  
  
"Ready and waiting, sir!" The older Elf, Lostisil, that was his name, nodded. Nudringion looked absurdly pleased with himself.  
  
"Right. You all know what you have to do. Muck it up, and I will personally deal with you myself, dead or alive." As old as he looked, he put enough bite into his voice to make the threat stick. He turned his eyes on Rosellyn, Tracie, Forest, and Legolas. "We're giving you the tasks I'd give to my more seasoned Elves; I hope you're willing to shoulder it. If aught goes ill, I don't care if you're in the middle of the damn camp. You use those horns, and you blow until the air leaves you. Got that?" They all nodded, and Legolas threw a smart salute.  
  
"Understood, sir. Can we get underway now?"  
  
"Indeed. We're supposed to have this done before dawn, as I recall. Well, what are you all standing here for? Get into the boats, you know what you need to do!" They all hastened to obey.  
  
Rosellyn, Forest, and Legolas slipped out of the boat and onto the opposite shore of the Riders. Tracie would be with another faction. She had protested strongly in the beginning, but her arguments quickly lost steam when she realized she was being placed with Benvenue. Who, incidentally, was fully caught up on Rose's free-as-a-bird status. And wisely stayed well out of her way.  
  
That suited her just fine. She wished him a long and happy life with Tracie. But Men could act so strangely sometimes.  
  
Though not as strange as young Elves. She expected some sentimentality out of Forest, but it surprised her coming from Legolas. He always seemed so stoic before a battle, but now he was being strangely vulnerable. After Forest had disappeared into the night forest, he threw his arms around her. He seemed to be doing that a lot, lately. Not that she was protesting, certainly. She exerted a slight pressure on her upper arms to keep him from drawing her too close, though. She needed to keep her wits about her, and the guaranteed way to make sure she lost them was to be held by Legolas Greenleaf.  
  
"Be careful, please. If I had my way, you wouldn't be hunting out the Warlord alone," he murmured.  
  
"Well, you didn't get your way. Legolas, this is personal now, and I'm going to kill the bastard myself, and I'll make him sorry he ever bestirred himself from Rohan."  
  
"I know. I know. I know you've got your heart and mind set on it. But...it's hard to let you go into danger, all by yourself...me or Tracie or Forest should be going with you." She smiled sadly.  
  
"You've all got parts to play. This is mine. Now go, before you're late." He nodded slowly, reluctantly.  
  
"Good luck, Stillwater." She grinned.  
  
"Good luck, Greenleaf. I know we'll need it." She planted a small kiss on his cheek and took off into the forest, not daring to look back. Della must really be rubbing off on her, she decided. Then she slowed her pace. This was a hunt, and she was out for revenge 


	34. Locating the Warlord

A/N: Let's join Rosellyn as she embarks on her quest for revenge...read on!  
  
Chapter 34-Finding the Warlord  
  
The only problem was, no one had any idea where the Warlord might be. He might be on the edge of the forest, somewhere in the middle...They knew he wasn't in the Glade, but that was little enough to go on. Lostisil had surmised that he was most likely near the army; he had to be, to issue commands. But how close, or where, no one could pinpoint.  
  
She got as close to the main army as she dared. Climbing one of the shorter trees, she crouched like some weird bird and took as rough a headcount as she could. It was a skill some of the veteran fighters had taught the younger element, how to estimate large numbers of enemies.  
  
And the skill proved useful here. Her count brought roughly 1,500 Men in the camp, give or take. That was appalling; any sane commander could have put them to route long ago. But she wasn't dealing with a seasoned war-leader; she was dealing with Awaren.  
  
Still, the number bothered her in more ways than one. It was so small. What total had she and Legolas and Tracie gotten with their spying? Even before the last camps that they never got to scout out, it was almost this number. That meant that approximately 600 soldiers were protecting this Warlord. That put things in perspective. Where could a camp that large hide, and still be accesible to the main body?  
  
Had the Warlord made a misstep? Or was he counting on the over-confidence of Awaren? He could have kept 100 soldiers with him as a body guard, and still be safe. Or were they protecting something more than the Warlord? Perhaps the Warlord didn't know how many fighting Elves they had. Or maybe he wanted to lure them out...  
  
The millions of possibilities left Rose's head spinning. This Man was damnably hard to second guess. -This is where you come in, miss America.- Della actually LAUGHED. ~Miss America? You don't get the accidental joke you made. I'll tell you later. What do you need?~  
  
That was a good question. What DID she need? She needed a big sign pointing to the Warlord, but Della could hardly do anything about that. -What do you think he's doing, pulling so many soldiers with him? Unless we've really underestimated his forces, and there's a lot more than 600?- Her advice, needless to say, was less than helpful. ~I honestly don't know what to tell you.~  
  
She skirted the main camp by treetop, looking for any sign of Men going to and   
  
fro. A small beaten trail, maybe an actual MESSENGER, something...  
  
Then she had an idea. In perhaps half an hour, an attack would be mounted. That would merit the sending of a Man to the Warlord. She could follow him!  
  
No, bad idea. If he roused the camp, she'd have a hard time cutting her way through 600 soldiers to get to the bloody Warlord. She'd have to find him before. And soon. She only had half an hour.  
  
She scanned the ground around the perimeter again, but fate wasn't with her tonight. There was nothing that indicated Men coming and going at all. So she dropped down, silent as a shadow, to look more closely. It was a foolhardy risk, but faint heart never won fair lady. Or something like that. Besides, there weren't any sentries on this side, and most of those in the camp were all in a drunken stupor.  
  
After ten minutes of searching, she found a small game trail. A slim chance, but she now had only twenty minutes left. She took off down it, following a remote possibility.  
  
The night forest pressed in suffocatingly close, and every rustle of some woodland creature was magnified a hundredfold, all seemed to be tailing her. Her senses were stretched to their breaking point, with the knowledge that she was imminently nearing the true enemy territory, the camp of the most notorious Man in Mirkwood's history thus far.  
  
i When they write this in the history books, what will they say? Will they say that this was the night Mirkwood was lost? Will they say that this was when Rosellyn Stillwater overcame the odds and won? Will they remember me at all? /i These thoughts bombarded her as she crept through the maze of undergrowth, shrubbery, and trees.  
  
A/N: *ducks* Hey, technically, the battle DID start. It's not my fault you people are blood-thirsty. And, again, updates won't be as often; I have to write more, plus I have some original stories I'm working on...needless to say, be patient. 


	35. More Sentry Trouble

A/N: I apologize for this being so late and so short. Food poisoning will do that to you. Read on!  
  
Chapter 35-More Sentry Trouble  
  
She was trying to see so far ahead that she wasn't paying attention to her own two feet. She tripped and went sprawling in a most un-Elf-like way.  
  
"What was that?" She froze. Since when did Men get so good at concealing themselves?? She had been looking as hard as she ever had before, and she didn't see a blest thing! She didn't dare move a muscle; the dead leaves rustling would be as obvious as a hundred soldiers marching before her, with heralds to boot.  
  
"Who's there?" A second voice, or the first? How many were out here?  
  
"What did you hear?" Okay, two at least. She hoped there weren't any more. And then, because she hoped for it, it didn't happen. Another male voice, though about an octave higher than the rest.  
  
"Hear? What did he hear? Hear what?" There was a communal sigh of consternation from...more than two voices. Oh no.  
  
"Menel, you worthless excuse for a sentry," hissed one. Well, this was better than the other sentries; at least he didn't shout it. "Why the Warlord shoved you on us is beyond my comprehension, but you have to pay attention! Luin heard a noise in the woods. Where did you hear it?"  
  
"Sou'westerly!" came a voice.  
  
"Did I ask you? I asked Luin." So she was up to four, at least. Most likely more.  
  
"Nah, it came from more to the south and east."  
  
"The west, I'm sure it was," insisted the other voice.  
  
"I heard it first, Irithmacar, and it came from the east! So what do we do now, Bain?" Bain, that must be the one in charge, the one who chastised Menel.  
  
"And they told me you lot were the best soldiers! What do you think we do? We go look for what caused the noise. This spurred a collective groan.  
  
"Bain, we did this last night, and Irithmacar had us chasing every damned squirrel in the forest!" Irithmacar didn't sound pleased with whoever had spoken.  
  
"We're surrounded by a spider-infested forest, fighting Elves, and you think I'm jumpy? Well, when they use your body for target practice, can't say I didn't warn you! You'll be asking why you didn't listen to me, then, oh, yes you will!"  
  
"Hush, both of you! Listen, that was too big to be a squirrel, so when I say we're going out to investigate, you say 'Right away, sir'. Now then. We're going out to investigate."  
  
"Right away, sir," came the sullen voices.  
  
"That's more like it. Irithmacar, Luin, and...Demelin. Come with me." Now the tally was up to five.  
  
"Can't I come?" someone whined.  
  
"I should think not, Menel. I'm not that desperate yet. The rest of you, keep this imbecile here, and make sure he doesn't wake up the whole forest." So, much more than five. What had she done? Maybe she should have taken up on Legolas's offer of companionship. He wouldn't have been caught in this sort of predicament. Anyone would be acceptable at this point; it was stupid for her to go alone. She heard the sentries creep up slowly, drawing nearer to her not-much-of-a-hiding-place.  
  
A/N: Again, I apologize for the length. I'll do better next time, I hope. 


	36. In the Spider's Nest

A/N: Finally! I'm updating again. Thanks for sticking with me through my sabbatical; I had the worst writer's block ever. The long-awaited chapter 37! Read on!  
  
Chapter 37- In the Spider's Nest  
  
She had only two options, that she could see: One, jump up like a lunatic and start firing at random, or two: lie there until they found her, and stab at random. Both involved too much chance for her liking. But she wasn't going to take it lying down, no she wouldn't. Her mother wouldn't have done so, she was sure. So she wouldn't either.  
  
Without any conscious planning, she got to her feet hastily and let an arrow fly in the direction of the sentries. She heard the sound of it hitting wood. She had missed.  
  
"Gah! Where did that come from?" she heard someone say. She couldn't distinguish who was who; Men's voices sounded so similar. Plus, she was trying to translate very quickly; she had gotten some practice speaking Westron with Benvenue, but it was one thing to speak it, and quite another to do a rapid translation of a conversation.  
  
"Use the wits bestowed on a turnip, Demelin. That's obviously our quarry. Elf, unless the local squirrels have started fletching arrows?" Probably Bain said that, sounded official enough. Now that she had a better location on the speakers, she let fly again. This time, she got a desired result.  
  
"The bastard!" cursed someone, "ahh, my arm!" She began to run.  
  
"There, it's running! Irithmacar, get Luin back to camp, and send others after us. Demelin, come with me!" She had harbored brief thoughts of staying and fighting, but that wasn't her job. Her job was to find the Warlord and kill him, not start fights with the subordinates. But could she outrun them?  
  
Most likely. She had a decent headstart, and she knew a thing or two about dodging attackers, mostly picked up through trial and error. She cut a zig-zag course deep into the forest, into a part she hadn't explored much. It would have been wiser, perhaps, to stay in the territory she knew, but it was too close to the town. She pressed onwards, hearing them pursue her. It was no good; this goose chase was just wasting time. She would have to stand and fight--  
  
Something landed right in front of her. A very large something. Stifling a shriek, she slowly retreated backwards. She had run blindly into a spider nest.  
  
The spider population was another problem Awaren did not see fit to deal with; the number had been growing by leaps and bounds. It was common enough knowledge that if left unchecked, they would soon overrun the forest.  
  
Why this occured to her at that moment was a mystery; she never seemed to be able to grasp important concepts in the face of danger, instead her mind wandered to stupid things like that. Fortunately, the spider was taken by surprise almost as much as she was, and didn't immediately attack.  
  
Rosellyn continued backing away, craning her neck up to see the creature's many eyes. ~Sweet Jesus on a stick!~ screamed Della. -Della, hush, right now, I need to think-- But Della was in too much of a panic. ~Mary, mother of God! Why is it so big? I HATE spiders!~ This was not a good time for that revelation. -Then hush and let me deal with it.- Della was gibbering, so Rose pushed her to the outskirts of her mind. But Della was not so easily deterred. ~I don't care if there's an entire regiment on your tail, Rose, get out of here NOW!~ Just as Rose was forming a reply, eyes still locked onto the giant spider's, she tripped flat on her bottom.  
  
"The Elf trips, yes," came the spider's whispery voice. ~It TALKS?~ asked Della faintly. "I thought Elves never tripped...what a young, tasty Elf." ~Tasty?~ echoed Della. She seemed in no hurry to shut up. Neither did the spider. "Are there more Elves? The spiders grow hungry, yes, hungry." Rosellyn scrabbled backwards on all fours. She desperately wished she had a sword; knives wouldn't be much use in this situation. One hairy leg after another, the spider followed. Then, it stopped. "What? Did the Elf bring friends? That's very thoughtful. Perhaps I shall bring some of my friends..." ~No, no friends! No friends! Why can't we get the social outcast spiders?~ her own friend moaned. Rosellyn kept backing up. She needed to stand, to loose an arrow, to get out before the Riders tripped over her.  
  
"Ow!" Too late. Two grown Men running at full speed weren't looking at the ground, at least, not enough to locate the transfixed Elf maid, staring at the giant spider. Men could be singularly blind sometimes.  
  
"I've found the Elf, Bain, I've found the Elf!" And stupid.  
  
"Forget the Elf, we've found a Mirkwood spider!" 


	37. Spider Strike

A/N: I have to start getting into the swing of updating again. Read on!  
  
Chapter 38-Spider Strike  
  
The three made no move to untangle themselves, though Rosellyn was beginning to feel several bruises coming on. All three were still, staring up. Demelin, it had to have been Demelin, his voice had been right by her ear, tore his eyes away and took a good look at Rosellyn. Bain followed his gaze.  
  
"What are you looking at?" he demanded hoarsely.  
  
"Lookit, Bain, it's a she-Elf! A she-Elf got Luin!" Rose tried to sit up, indignant.  
  
"Watch who you're calling she-Elf!" she said, slightly insulted.  
  
"Quiet, you," snarled Bain.  
  
"Quiet yourself!" she retorted. The spider was forgotten temporarily.  
  
"I'd be a bit more polite, were I you," remonstrated Bain. "You are our captive, after all." Rose was taken aback at that.  
  
"Captive?" she spluttered, "when did you take me captive?" she demanded.  
  
"Well, can you get up?" asked Demelin, all the voice of reason. To her dismay, she found that she couldn't.  
  
"No," she said shortly.  
  
"Then I'd say you're our captive," said Demelin comfortably. Rose kicked him. He winced. "That was uncalled for."  
  
"Was it?" she asked sweetly, "I am your captive, after all." ~This is cute, but, um SPIDER!~ She snapped to reality. The spider had gotten over its amusement at the argument and was starting to advance.  
  
"Spider!" she yelled, alerting the two Men. They both sprang up, Bain keeping a foot planted firmly in Rosellyn's midriff.  
  
"Demelin! Hold the captive while I fight!" Demelin looked hesitant.  
  
"This is stupid!" shouted Rosellyn, "I can fight, too! Let me get my bow—"  
  
"And have you turn it on us?" Bain snarled, trying a few experimental swipes with his sword, "Not likely, miss. I didn't fall off the horse yesterday!"  
  
"If I promise not to use it on you, will you let me? You need every fighter you can get against these things!"  
  
"Might be she's telling it true, sir," said Demelin gingerly, as though trying not to ignite his commander's temper. "She's born and bred in Mirkwood, maybe she knows how to fight these things. And...Elves are said to be trustworthy..." Rose took this opportunity to look as innocent as possible. Bain sighed and took his foot away.  
  
"Don't make me regret this, wench." She leapt to her feet and readied her bow.  
  
"I don't suppose you've got bows?" she asked, sighting her arrow, "Swords don't feel like more than a sting to them." A burst of inspiration came to her. "I've heard it said that Men carry poison with them, to kill themselves if taken prisoner. Is that true?"  
  
"Rubbish," scoffed Bain, who remained with his sword unsheathed, though Demelin was trying to clumsily string his bow. Rosellyn sighed and shot, wincing at the spider's jerk of pain.  
  
"Just a thought. Do you coat your weapons?"  
  
"Some do. Happens I don't, nor Demelin here." Demelin took quick aim and fired. His shot nailed the eye Rosellyn had been aiming at originally.  
  
"You've got good night-vision," she said, impressed in spite of herself. Demelin shrugged.  
  
"May or mayn't be a blessing; I'm always a night-sentry." She saw an opening there.  
  
"What were you guarding, the Warlord?"  
  
"Oh, no, he's more to the--ow!" Bain had caught her plan and stomped Demelin's foot, shutting him up.  
  
"Not so quick, missy, you won't get a thing out of us." He glared at Demelin. Rosellyn sighed, notched an arrow, and shot, getting another eye.  
  
"Come on, can you blame me for trying? Why aren't you getting your bow out?"  
  
"Sword's served me better, and I've a hand for it, if tis any business of yours. Now, I hope you understand that once this beastie is slain, you're coming with us."  
  
"When was that part of the plan?" she asked, missing the eye completely and lodging in a furry leg. The darned thing needed to stop thrashing. "I just agreed not to kill you. Nothing was said of coming with you." Demelin took out another eye.  
  
"Well, he's saying it now, miss. You've been a help, and I'll tell the Warlord that, but you're coming with us all the same. Sorry." He truly did seem sorry, though Bain had no such finer feelings. Instead, his patience ran out.  
  
"Enough with this hen-pecking! I'm settling this for good!" Before Rose could do anything, he charged, sword high, and began hacking at one of the legs, like he was trying to cut down a tree.  
  
"No!" she screamed, "Come back, you have to come back!" Why was she saving him? Shouldn't she hope that the spider finished him off, and Demelin too? "Bain, that's never going to work! Come back, before you're killed!" If Bain heard, he gave no sign. Suddenly, with a quickness that belied its former moves, the spider leapt backwards, giving it a clear shot at the Man officer. Web shot out, catching Bain securely. Rose grabbed Demelin, keeping him back. "You can't do anything!" she yelled, "He's gone, he'll suffocate, or the spider's going to--" The spider advanced and bent low over Bain, who was fighting his bonds fiercely. "Look away!" she moaned, and he did. She did as well, having no stomach for watching spiders feed.  
  
A/N: Ick...who would? There, I've put in the Mirkwood spiders. I feel so accomplished now...heh. 


	38. Off to See the Warlord

A/N: Wow, I'm really close to finishing. It's almost sad, in a way. This has been fun. Maybe I'll make a sequel, just to REALLY annoy people...read on!  
  
Chapter 39-Off to see the Warlord  
  
"Miss, we have to get away!" Showing a presence of mind that Rosellyn wish she possessed in times of crisis, Demelin was pulling her along, taking advantage of the spider's preoccupation to escape. She ran with him, slightly shaken. How horrible to die like that, she thought, all enclosed, and struggling to breathe, watching the spider...she stumbled, and Demelin pulled her up. "Here now, I thought all Elves were graceful."  
  
"I thought all Men were evil," she muttered. They slowed their pace, and Demelin looked at her quizzically.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't follow." Rose stopped and leaned against a tree for support.  
  
"Well, you didn't have to free me, and you didn't have to pull me away with you. I would have just stood there, and you would have gotten away. You even tried to run to your officer. I didn't know Men were like that."  
  
"Come now, miss, I couldn't leave you for that spider. Maybe you're a fighter, but you're still a lady for all that. I couldn't abandon a lady, my mother's shade would be sure to haunt me. She taught me better than that."  
  
"I'm glad she did," she said. Demelin straightened and took her by the elbow.  
  
"As am I. Now come with me, miss." She wrenched free.  
  
"No, I'm not going to your stupid Warlord!"  
  
"Don't make me fight a woman, miss, because I'll have to if you resist. Please just come quiet." Several things occured to Rosellyn. One was that she would never be able to fight Demelin with the intent to kill. Rider or not, she had taken a liking to his bluff and honest ways. Two was that her former statement was untrue. She was trying to get to the Warlord. And Demelin might just save her a search. She tried to look like the fight had gone out of her, slumping slightly.  
  
"I'll come quiet." -I just won't promise to stay that way,- she thought. Demelin nodded firmly.  
  
"That's the way. Just follow me, put your bow up, and keep your hands where I can see them, please." She obeyed without complaint. This was the second time she had to act like a captive; when would it end? But she didn't have Legolas, this time. On the other hand, Demelin was much better company than Haltred and whoever. She closely followed the soldier, hoping to get through this encounter alive as well.  
  
After awhile, Demelin broke the silence.  
  
"I hate to ask, miss: how old are you?" Rosellyn sighed.  
  
"1,472," she said. She could tell that wasn't making much sense to him. "That would be a teenager, in Men's years," she added. He nodded.  
  
"I thought so, but I was wondering if that was your Elven sorcery, that made you look so young. Now I know; you are young. Why are they sending babies like you to fight a war? Or they out of grown fighters? And a girl!"  
  
"Wait, a girl can fight, too! And no one sent me; I sent myself."  
  
"Itching for action, so you snuck out?" She said nothing. If that's what he wanted to believe...he took her silence as a yes. "No shame, miss, no shame. I've thought of doing the same thing myself, many a time. Part of a reserve force, that's what I was sentry for. But the Warlord has spies...they know everything, it seems, even your thoughts. I couldn't run off, it would be under pain of death." Rosellyn winced in sympathy. Awaren had hit her, but at least he hadn't killed her.  
  
"Spies among his own people?" she asked, "Doesn't he trust them?"  
  
"The Warlord don't trust his army any further than he can throw them, miss. Only his high officers are truly loyal to him, and then not much. The rest...we pledged our loyalty to our king, not his upjumped door warden. He don't trust us any more than he has to." Rosellyn thought about that.  
  
"Seems silly, I think." Demelin shook his head.  
  
"You may have been in Middle Earth ten times what I have, or more, but you're still so young, to understand all this. I don't know why you're here, but the Warlord will find a use for you. He says children always make the best captives, like the two in the main camp." There was pity in his eyes. "I wish I didn't have to turn you over to him. You are a pretty little thing." There was no lust in his voice as he said it, only regret.  
  
"You don't have to, you know," she said, stopping suddenly. "You could just let me go, no one would know." He shook his head, determined.  
  
"There's where you're wrong. Somehow, the Warlord would know. He knows everything. It's more than my life is worth to set you free. I'm sorry." They began walking again. Rosellyn considered playing the sobbing prisoner with Demelin, but dismissed that idea. She had a feeling he wouldn't be fooled. However, if she played stupid in front of the Warlord...that could work. She could use Demelin's story, the child trying to escape her parents to play on the mainland. As far as the Warlord knew, she didn't know a thing about the defenses of Linka and Awaren's home, even though she had helped plan them herself, this night.  
  
They continued in silence for a good ten minutes. Ten minutes! She couldn't hear anything from outside the sphere of light of the torch that Demelin had thought to light. The forest was always pitch-dark at night, but it had never felt quite so enclosed to her before. She hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on. She couldn't hear fighting, or shouts, or war horns, or any such noise, only her footsteps, Demelin's, and the occaisional black squirrel making its way through the trees above them.  
  
Had the battle in the main camp started? Had Legolas succeeded in his part of the plan, had Forest , had Tracie and Benvenue? What about Lostisil, or Nudringion? She wished she had some way of knowing. ~What you people need are walkie-talkies.~ said Della. Rose frowned. -Pray tell, what is a walkie-talkie, precisely?- Della kept her occupied for the rest of the trek, explaining about some little devices that sent your voice to a matching one. The Istari on Earth must be so much more advanced than theirs, to think of such a thing. But how did the voice get in the box, and how was it transferred from one box to another? Della admitted that she didn't know precisely. Rose thought that it sounded fascinating. A slight touch to her arm from Demelin brought her out of her thoughts.  
  
"We're here at the Warlord's camp, miss," he said quietly. Rose put her head up bravely and followed him into the enemy's camp, into the camp of the Man she had detested from afar for so long.  
  
A/N: Cue the ominous music! 


	39. Fear and Bruises

A/N: So tantalizingly close...if you think the Warlord is evil, you have yet to reckon with an author who enjoys stringing out her readers. And will you look at that, I'm on chapter 40. That's amazing, to me. Read on!  
  
Chapter 40-Fear and Bruises  
  
The camp seemed inherently evil, though that might have just been her imagination. Tents were all around, the dark material blending into the night forest, some of their occupants snoring slightly. There was a tight ring of sentries, all standing shoulder-to-shoulder, rigid at attention. One stepped out and blocked their way, speaking in an officious tone.  
  
"Halt! State your business in our camp." Demelin took Rosellyn by the elbow again, gesturing to her with the other hand.  
  
"My name is Demelin, night-sentry from the reserves camp. Myself and my commanding officer have abducted a young she-Elf." Rosellyn bristled at the "she-Elf" comment, but kept it to herself. Now was NOT the time to throw a fit.  
  
"Commanding officer?" the soldier frowned, "Where is your commanding officer? Who is he?"  
  
"Bain, son of Doin. And he's feeding the spiders. I believe the Warlord would like to see her?" The sentry nodded.  
  
"I shall take her to the Warlord. Report back to your camp." Demelin's grip tightened on her arm, though his voice remained quiet.  
  
"With all due respect, I will come with you." The sentry seemed to be weighing his options. Then he shrugged.  
  
"I suppose you may come. Keep her quiet, and keep her with you. Follow me. The rest of you," this was directed at the Men directly to either side of him, "stay in formation." Rosellyn thought that the order was a useless formality, but Men always loved to hear the sound of their own voices, especially when they were giving commands.  
  
They walked into the heart of the camp, and Rosellyn tried to do the quick counting again. Judging by the number of tents, there were maybe three hundred here, meaning there were roughly two to three hundred in the reserve camp. Those walkie-talkies Della had mentioned would have come in extremely handy.  
  
She found herself shaking. She couldn't get scared, not when she was so close! But she was starting to feel the first nigglings of fear. She needed combat, not this waiting stuff. On instinct, she reached to her hip flask of miruvor. The sentry caught her hand.  
  
"Don't even think about it," he said gruffly. She tried reasoning with him.  
  
"I'm not going for a weapon," she explained, "just my hip flask."  
  
"You're not drinking anything. I'm bringing you to the Warlord alive."  
  
"It's not poison," said Demelin suddenly. "She would have used it, else. It's fine to drink, whatever it is."  
  
"Miruvor," she supplied, "Elvish liquor." The sentry still looked suspicious.  
  
"Give a sip to this fellow." She unhooked the flask and handed it to Demelin. He accepted it, and drank a bit without hesitation. His eyes widened as the effects hit him.  
  
"Does that ever wake you up!" he said marveling, shaking his head slightly to clear it. "It's safe, she can have some." The sentry grudgingly allowed this. Rosellyn took a substantial drink. She would have drunk it all, had Della not stopped her. ~Liquor? As in, alcohol? Save some; I have a plan, in case everything goes bad. Just keep that handy.~ Puzzled, Rose did as she was bid, loosely hooking it back on, not the sort of fetters she'd give it if she was planning to run. -I hope you know what you're doing.-  
  
They stopped outside of the largest, grandest tent, more of a pavillion than anything else. It was silken, unless she missed her guess, though it was stained and travel-worn. Four sentries flanked the tent flap. From the silhouttes cast by the dying fire inside, there was another way out, though it was guarded by only one soldier. She was trying to memorize every detail of the place, something, anything that would help her later. One of the sentries stepped out.  
  
"What is your business here?" Demelin was brusquely shoved to the side.  
  
"I have a captive for the Warlord." Rose bristled.  
  
"You? When did you do anything?" she snapped. And got slapped across the face for her trouble, the same side that Awaren had slapped. She cried out as the still-tender skin re-bruised. Then she doubled over as another blow sank into her stomach. She dropped like a stone to the ground and covered her head as the irate sentry began to kick at her. Mostly they hit her back, but once his boot sailed squarely onto her temple.  
  
She must have blacked out, because the next thing she remembered, she had entered half-way into an argument.  
  
"...she came with me, not you! She had every right to--"  
  
"Prisoners have no rights! She does not speak until spoken to!"  
  
"But to lay her out cold like that, just for saying you were wrong--"  
  
"I am a superior officer! Watch your tone!" The tent-sentry nudged Rosellyn with his toe. At least he did it gently, even if it was on her bruised side. Was there any side of her NOT bruised?  
  
"Master Demelin's captive is awake. Stand her up." Before the camp-sentry could refute that, Demelin carefully stood her up on her feet, giving her his arm for support, if she needed it.  
  
She did. "I cannot allow her in front of the Warlord so armed. She can unarm herself, if she so chooses." Legs shaking from injury, exhaustion, and fear, she slowly drew her knives out of her belt, so they didn't think she was launching an attack. She couldn't resist, however, giving one final, fond spin to Diamondsong. I'll see it again, she thought, I'll get out of here. She dropped her quiver and her bow, but, as Della had told her, she kept the miruvor at her side. No one commented at it. The tent-sentry gave her a rough pat-down, to see if she had concealed anything, then swept the tent flap aside. This was it. Moment of truth. She was going face-to-face with the Warlord.  
  
A/N: I did warn you; I am evil. 


	40. For Whom the Death Knell Tolls

A/N: Someone asked if the Warlord was Eomer; no, this takes place WAY before the trilogy. Benvenue is Aragorn's distant ancestor. Eomer and Theoden and everyone else don't exist yet. Thought I'd clear that up. Read on!  
  
Chapter 41- For Whom the Death Knell Tolls  
  
It was dim and smoky in the tent, not the hellish nightmare world that she had imagined. She squinted around, and she found the form of the Warlord, almost indistinguishable against the gloom. She coughed, cursed, and rubbed her watering eyes.  
  
"Does the Elfling admire my abode?" The Warlord's voice was deep and hoarse, laden with menace. Rosellyn rubbed her eyes again, trying to get a better view. Squinting, she could make out his profile, large and hulking and muscular, far cry from the Elven grace she had seen all her life. He stood at her enterance, his face wreathed in shadow. His eyes glowed eerily in the flickering firelight.  
  
"I've seen worse." A lie.  
  
"And my fighters?" She forced a laugh, though she couldn't remember ever feeling less amused in her life.  
  
"I've definitely never seen worse."  
  
"And yet here you stand, a captive at my mercy."  
  
"Funny. Word has it that you have no mercy." He gave a hoarse chuckle. This wasn't forced, though; it escalated into cruel, mocking laughter. Then he abruptly stopped, as though the sound had been cut off.  
  
"Rumor did not lie. But you amuse me, for now. When you cease to amuse me, you cease to live. Keep that in mind."  
  
"I'm not here to amuse you."  
  
"Then you don't live."  
  
"When I care, I'll let you know." The Warlord roared with laughter, the fullest, and scariest, sound she had heard him make yet. Unlike before, this wasn't mocking, this was full of evil, sending shivers down her spine. He trailed off.  
  
"You have courage. But courage will avail you naught in my tent. You will tell me what I need to know, and you will talk quickly. Then I'm sure that you will dissolve into incoherent babble because you will say anything to end your suffering. I predict that you will be begging for death, in the end, and my soldiers will gladly give it to you. But until then, I will be gentler, taking into consideration the frailty of your gender."  
  
"I'm telling you nothing." Her anger was on a slow simmer. Frailty of her gender? She'd show him what a delicate dove she could be...  
  
A sword point appeared at her chin, forcing her head back. Fear came in full blast, now. She felt her knees begin to give way; she determinedly locked them upright. He pressed a little harder, and she felt a sting and a trickle of blood run down her throat. She felt like crying, and perhaps a tear or two escaped her eyes. Would he really kill her? Her stomach felt like it was full of lead; in contrast, her heart was leaping out of her throat. His eyes were cold and blue, and bloodshot. He looked half-mad. Or lacking sleep. What could she do against a mad Warlord, whose string could snap any minute?  
  
To her surprise, he removed the sword point from her throat. She backed off gratefully, rubbing the blood off her throat. Then the Warlord's hands wrapped around it, and began to tighten, slowly cutting off her air.  
  
Her habit of noticing stupid things came to her again. The Warlord's hair was disheveled, though his sword looked well-cared for. The tent was a mess, as though things had been thrown about. Clearly, this Man was teetering on the edge of madness. The slightest provocation, and she would be dead before she could blink. He was standing with one foot almost in the fire... ~Say that again?~ said Della sharply. -What? He's almost burning his foot off?- ~We're saved! Get your miruvor. Throw it on the fire. The Warlord's going to go up like a firecracker!~  
  
Rose could have laughed, except she needed all of her available air to keep living. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as, with exquisite care, she loosened the cork of her flask. The Warlord saw.  
  
"What are you doing?" he demanded. The time for secrecy was over. She gave him a quick punch in the face and threw the flask. Trailing liquid, it landed smack in the fire, shattering on impact.  
  
The explosion threw her backwards, out of the tent flap. This was probably a good thing, despite many new bruises, and feelings of protest from the old; the tent was in flames, now, with the Warlord in it, screaming.  
  
She had a strange, heady feeling; the Warlord was dead, burned alive, no more than he deserved, but...Mirkwood was free. The fight was over. The Riders would surrender at the loss of their leader, if what Demelin said was true. She had done it; she had completed what her mother, and Syndar, and numerous others had died trying to do: she had freed Mirkwood, she had won the war. By herself. No Tracie, no Legolas, no Awaren, she had done it all by herself...  
  
She came to her senses. Any second now, the panicking Men would trip right over her, and her euphoria was sure to be short-lived if she was ambushed lying on the ground. She pushed herself to her feet, which was strangely hard, now, as though all her muscles had turned to mush. -It's just the adrenaline fading,- she told herself, -but why is it fading now? This is the most crucial part!- She took off into the forest, stumbling slightly. -The miruvor, maybe?-  
  
She was definitely lagging by the time she had returned to familiar territory. -What is wrong?- she thought, feeling the beginning edges of panic. -This has never happened to me before...Della, why did you make me waste that miruvor?- But Della didn't reply. -Della?- Still nothing. She pushed on, wishing she had the Elvish liquor with her. She stumbled, then hit the ground. She couldn't get up.  
  
Panic began to set in. Her strength had left her. Why couldn't she get up? What was wrong? -Poison!- It hit her like a summer storm. The sword edge had poison on it! The Warlord was one of the Men who used poison! -Don't panic, that will speed up your heart, the poison will go faster...- Her vision began to flicker, ever so slightly. Dawn was coming. She needed to find someone, tell someone...  
  
She found herself standing up again. Reeling like a drunkard, she tottered forward, east, towards the rising sun, towards the town. She tripped, almost, but grabbed a tree branch for balance. She had stumbled on the body of cantankerous old Lostisil, stab marks all around his body. Numbness swept through her. Somehow, she was able to keep going, hot tears making their way down her face. There were corpses everywhere; was anybody alive?  
  
She collapsed again, feeling some malignant force crawl through her veins. She couldn't keep this up forever; she had to find somebody before she...died...-No, I'm not going to die, I won't, I'll find someone, Awaren will have medicine, it's going to be all right.-  
  
She realized, with a start, that she wasn't going east; she had been going south. But the sun, it was rising, why was it rising in the south?  
  
It wasn't. Something was burning. Something large. Was the forest on fire? she thought, alarmed. No, it wasn't the forest. She smelled smoke, but it wasn't woodsmoke. And...Awaren's home. The town. It was on fire. The tears came again. She had killed the Warlord, yes, but at what price? Her life, her town, the lives of others. What had she done? Was the bargain too high? What would Awaren say? Even if she didn't like him, he was still the leader, he could punish her...it was ultimately, irreversably, all her fault.   
  
-Legolas, you should have talked me out of it, why did I convince you to do this? I can't believe this is happening. How could I have been so foolish?- Would she die alone now?  
  
"Rosellyn! It IS you!"  
  
A/N: Shocking, is it not? Will she die? If she does, what happens to Della? That's for me to know and you to find out. 


	41. Confessions

A/N: More chapters to come, never fear.  
  
Chapter 42--Confessions  
  
Legolas's face swam in her rapidly flickering vision. At first, she thought she was delusional. But no, it was really him, really his hand wiping sweat-soaked hair from her face, from her eyes. His eyes were full of worry.  
  
"Rosellyn, are you okay? Sweet Valar, are you wounded?" She shook her head weakly. She forced the words out of her throat.  
  
"No. Do you have...antidote? Poisoned--weapons. Throat." Legolas shook his head. Was her vision clouding more? No, it was tears making his eyes blurry. She felt one drop onto her cheek.  
  
"I don't have anything, Rose, anything. But...I'll take you home, it'll be all right."  
  
"I won't last. It's been too long. It's now or...never. Legolas...I love you."  
  
There. She had said it. It was out there. She--was she crazy? Even now, she couldn't believe she had confessed. For awhile, there was silence. She didn't have the courage to look Legolas in the eye, afraid of what she might see in his face. Rejection, disgust, or...something else?  
  
She felt his hand cup her cheek, and she finally got the nerve to look at him. He had an odd expression on his face, one she didn't recognize right off. But it wasn't disdain, that was a start.  
  
"You--what?" She really didn't have time for this; he had to understand before she...before she died.  
  
"Love you. I love you. If I was going to live past tonight, I would want to be with you forever. I love you, Legolas." She had said it again. And again. She'd say it forever, she'd say it as long as she still had breath, she didn't care what he thought anymore. Why hadn't she said this before? It was all so stupid, being afraid of him. She should have confessed a long time ago.  
  
"Me--what about Benvenue?" He would bring that up, wouldn't he?  
  
"He kissed me. He...loves Tracie, now. And she loves him. I've only ever loved you, Legolas. Honest." He cupped her face in both hands, and she stared unashamedly into his eyes. Beautiful eyes, every part of him was beautiful. Where was Della? She should have piped up by now. Rose wanted her opinion about all this.  
  
Where had her sense gone? She didn't mean to sound callous, but right now, Della could jump off a cliff. Rose was busy confessing her innermost emotions.  
  
"Oh...Legolas? In Awaren's house...I was writing a book...I want you to read it. It's about a whole different world."  
  
"Rosellyn, Awaren's house is in flames. Nothing could be saved. Your book is gone." She winced. Della (who she didn't care about right now) was going to be furious.  
  
"What about everyone inside?"  
  
"Some managed to escape. I don't know how many."  
  
"Ellie? Meira?"  
  
"Safe, the both of them. They were retaken easily. The Warlord?" She heaved a relieved sigh.  
  
"Dead. Burned alive." Now it was his turn to sigh.  
  
"Only fitting." She nodded weakly. She could barely see his face, now, her vision was coming and going, and she was beginning to feel light-headed. "Wait, Rose, you can't die, you just can't!"  
  
"It's a bit late for that, I'm sorry. I can't last much longer." She was starting to black out, and she could think of so many more things she wanted to say. But she couldn't find her voice anymore. Every movement became lethargic. Just before she simply...faded...she heard Legolas's voice, as though from far away, in a broken tone,  
  
"I love you, Rosellyn." 


	42. Coming to Grips

A/N: Wow, I'm really close to 100 reviews; that's about 95 more than I ever thought I would get. I'm not a review whore, or anything, but I still feel good about that. *ahem* Story. Yes. Read on!  
  
Chapter 43-Coming to Grips  
  
Tracie stepped into the dawn-streaked war-zone. The army had suddenly, inexplicably surrendered. But Awaren was not here to see it. She looked towards where the survivors were laying out their dead fellows. Linka stood at the head of one of the still forms, head bowed, but still composed. Her husband had been struck down in the attempt to escape his burning home.  
  
Tracie looked to the next figure...then immediately looked away. She hadn't wanted to believe it, when Legolas had brought her limp body out from the forest, but she couldn't deny it anymore; her best friend was dead. The clencher was that she looked so peaceful, and relatively uhurt, albeit bruised. Only a scratch on her throat. Legolas had disappeared afterwards. She had found him earlier, in the tree she thought he didn't know about, the one she and Rosellyn used to play in. He was in the large spreading branches, crying. She didn't disturb him, and hadn't seen him since.  
  
Not everything she saw was grief-striken, however. Across the lake, she could see Damita, Meira, and Ellie having a tearful, joyous reunion. Did Damita know her foster daughter was dead? Somehow, Tracie didn't think so.  
  
Benvenue came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. She rested her head on it and they stood there, in silence, watching the enemy troops being put away, and more bodies of Elves she had known and grown up around being laid to rest by the minute.  
  
"I saw Rosellyn," he said quietly. Those words caused her to dissolve into sudden tears. Even she was surprised by it. Benvenue wrapped his arms around her, and she sobbed into his shoulder. It was a minute or two before she had calmed enough to speak.  
  
"I know," she said hoarsely. "I had hoped there had been some mistake, but it could only be her. She lost her knives."  
  
"Knives?" he said, puzzled, but she continued on.  
  
"She would rather die than be parted with those knives, but when Legolas brought her out, they were nowhere in sight. Neither was her bow, or her quiver. Why was she unarmed? I don't understand, Benvenue, I don't understand."  
  
"All will be well in the end, Tracie. She died defending her people, saving them. She killed the Warlord. She ended the war. She would have wanted to die this way, rather than any other."  
  
"She wouldn't have wanted to die at all!" she said angrily. "She loved life, she loved living..."  
  
"She loved master Legolas, as well, but we do not always attain that which we love." Tracie stared at him. Things were slowly clicking into place.  
  
"He loved her, too. I knew it, I knew it all along and I never did anything. Now...I feel like this is all my fault, somehow."  
  
"Never, Tracie, do not blame yourself. Rosellyn and Legolas did not find love until it was too late. I would not like to make the same mistake." She looked up at him, startled. He knelt down in front of her, obviously searching for the right words. "Tracie, Traceheart, miss Forestwood, I love you. I pray that you can find it in you to love me, as well. I dedicate my life to you, paltry though it is, from this day forward, if you will take me." Tracie stood for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Then she knelt down in front of him, looking him in the eye. He took her hands in his own, and she felt hers begin to shake. She mentally tried to still them, but to no avail.  
  
"Benvenue..." she stopped, looking over at Rosellyn. Rose would have wanted her to do this, she felt sure. She heard her friend's voice, that night in her room: "It's foolish to pledge love in the middle of a seige..." But the seige, the war, it was all over. And she couldn't deny how she felt.  
  
"Benvenue, I--I love you, too. I'll marry you, I'll give up my immortality, whatever you ask." He bridged the distance between them and kissed her delicately.  
  
"Your parents...your brother...Legolas..."  
  
"Yes?" They turned around. Legolas was standing beside them, eyes red but dry. He beckoned to Benvenue. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to master Haltier." Benvenue stood and walked with Legolas. Tracie stubbornly followed.  
  
"I would like to apologize for every wrong I have done you," he said, when Tracie made it clear she wasn't going to move. "I thought you to be without honor, but I was...mistaken. Every Elf in your company tonight boasted of your bravery and skill. I would like to mend my error, and extend my hand in comraderie. Your kin and mine will be forever friends." He held out his hand. Benvenue clasped it without hesitation.  
  
"It was never my wish to sow enmity between us, Legolas. It will be as you say. Besides," he said, a small smile on his face, "it would be awkward if I were not on speaking terms with my fiancée's closest friend." To Tracie's surprise, Legolas's face bloomed into a smile.  
  
"I wish you many long, happy years together. It is good to see that there can still be happiness amidst so much loss." At the word loss, he seemed to become withdrawn, and his smile, though still in place, turned fake. He bowed and walked to Rose's body, leaving them alone. Tracie watched him; his head bowed over, and she could see more tears blooming in his eyes. He took his sheathed knife, the black steel one, and slipped it under her arm. That was noble of him; she wouldn't be buried weaponless. His lips moved.  
  
"I will never carry black steel again." Did that mean he would switch to white steel?  
  
Tracie looked over at Benvenue. Her future husband. A shiver of anticipation and happiness ran through her, but it battled the devestation she felt. As soon as the happiness came, it left, leaving guilt. What kind of friend was she? Her best friend was barely cold, and here she was, planning her wedding.  
  
Benvenue saw the conflict of emotions playing out on her face.  
  
"Tracie? What's wrong?" She sighed, and felt tears coming again. She would be crying much more, she knew.  
  
"I can't do it. I can't marry you, yet. I will, someday, but...it's too soon, too soon after the battle, too soon after everything."  
  
"I understand. Rosellyn's death saddens us all. I will wait however long you require, I promise."  
  
She looked around once more. Forest was coming up to Legolas, but there was no grief in his face, only numbness. It would take awhile, she knew, for her twin to accept what had happened. Who would tell Damita? Poor Meira, and Ellie. And...  
  
"Benvenue? Could you go to Lorién?" He looked surprised.  
  
"Well, I suppose I could. Why?" She gestured to Rose's body.  
  
"Rosellyn, and her family. Her father and her brother and her sister live there. They need to know what happened." He frowned.  
  
"She asked me, before the seige, to carry a message when I left. I suppose I must do that now. I will ride to Lorién as soon as all is put to rest here."  
  
"We'll get married when you come back." Benvenue nodded.  
  
"Will Linka rule in her husband's stead?" Tracie shook her head.  
  
"Didn't you hear? She's stepping down. Legolas's father, Thranduil, he's assuming leadership of Mirkwood. King Thranduil. Prince Legolas. How strange."  
  
"Strange indeed. It is settled then; once your king is in place, I will ride for Lorién and bring tidings to Rosellyn's family."  
  
Coming towards them, Damita saw Rosellyn's body.  
  
A/N: Please don't hurt me! She had to be dead, and stay that way, for this story to be canonoically correct. Tolkien never said that Legolas had a surviving significant other (I suppose, though, that you could take that to mean that he never said he DIDN'T. I don't play like that, though). So, Rose is dead, and she will forever be dead. Sorry to break anyone's streak of predictions. Hope you didn't bet on it.  
  
But now... what DID happen to Della? 


	43. Just a Dream

A/N: I think I said I was almost done...on chapter 30-something. But this time, I think I really am close to done. I'm considering a sequel, but, as fun as that might be, I can't think of a plot that's different from this one. I was considering having Della come back to Middle Earth as Tracie and Benvenue's child, but it would basically be this same story, with different names. I dunno. I'll see what I can think of. Read on!  
  
Chapter 44-Just a Dream  
  
Delaney's eyes snapped open. Wide-eyed and disoriented, she looked around. At first, she thought she was dead. -I am dead, I died in Legolas's arms.- But she felt very much alive. -This can't be happening. I'm dead. Rose died, and I died with her.-  
  
All she could see was white. Blinding white. -Well, people say they see Heaven when they were near death.- Was this it? Was this Heaven? Did Middle-Earth even have Heaven? The last thing she remembered was Legolas saying he loved her, and...a white car. An Audi. But that wasn't Rose, that was how she, Delaney, had died.  
  
"Della?" She heard the voice. But it wasn't Rose, it wasn't inside her head, it was outside, she heard it with her ears. "Della, you're awake!" Awake? Alive? Could it be? Then...what happened to Rose? Where was she?  
  
Slowly, she found the answer. She was in a hospital room. Modern-day Manhattan. A television screen was playing her mother's favorite daytime soap opera, a small table with doctor's tools stood off to one side. For several seconds, these objects seemed strange and foreign to her. Then everything clicked at once.  
  
She was alive. She had survived. She was in the hospital, recovering, and her mother was sitting next to her, nearly hysterical. But what was all of Middle-Earth? Was it just one hell of a coma dream? That thought made her sad; on the other hand, that meant that Rose didn't really die, which was somewhat comforting.  
  
"M-mom?" Her lips felt stupid and heavy, like she had forgotten how to talk. Her mother looked at her strangely. Why? She might be forgetting little things, like how exactly a microwave worked, but she was quite sure that the woman by her bed was, in fact, her mother. "Manke amin?" What did she just say? She had meant to ask where she was. No wonder her mother was looking at her as though she was speaking a different language. She was! What language? Was that Elvish? Why did she think of that...?  
  
It must have all been a dream. Just like a dream, details were slipping out of her memory as fast as she tried to remember them. She couldn't remember the names of places, or what they looked like, or what she had looked like. One face stayed constant long after the name faded, though; a handsome blond Elf. And it wasn't Link. And Rose. She couldn't forget Rose, ever. Everything else, though...she wanted to cry. It seemed like such a part of her. But that was silly. It was just a dream. Something her brain had unconciously created while she was in a coma. Everything could be explained. She had been thinking of Elves before she went under, hadn't she? But the sense of inexplicable loss still filled her.  
  
"Della?" Her mother was speaking hesitantly. Delaney thought about each word carefully before she said it and, lo and behold, it was ordinary English.  
  
"Where am I?" It was easier to speak, now, though her voice was hoarse and rusty.  
  
"The hospital, honey, you're in the hospital. Do you remember anything? The doctors said you might not." She strained to remember what had happened, but all she came up with was the shadowy, undefined world of her dream. And...a white car...  
  
"An Audi. It was an Audi, wasn't it?" Her mother nodded slowly.  
  
"Is that all you remember?" She tried. She really did. But all she could remember was a white car. And Mollier. What had Mollier been doing? Teasing her, of course; that question shouldn't have been asked. But she thought Mollier had been screaming. Why...?  
  
"Yeah. All I remember."  
  
"The car hit you. The driver wasn't looking at all where he was going. Your friend--Elsie? Elise?--tried to warn you." Elsie? Who? Oh, she couldn't possibly mean...  
  
"Her name's Eloise. And she's not my friend."  
  
"Well, she did try to help you. She got you out from under the car before the ambulance arrived."  
  
"You're not supposed to move an injured person. That makes it worse."  
  
"She was only trying to help you, angel. Really, I think you'd have a lot more friends at school if you just gave everyone a chance--"  
  
"Mom, it's them that's not giving me a chance!" she cried. "You know I'd never be mean to anyone for no good reason, but these people are! It's not my fault they don't like me because I'm not rich!" She struggled to sit up, but her mother gently pushed her shoulders back down.  
  
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. You aren't awake for five minutes, and already I'm getting you worked up. You should just relax for now. Don't worry about anything for now. If you want to go back to sleep, that would be even better. I'm going to see if I can find the doctor. You just calm down and wait here." Struggling to comply, she lay back down. Why would Mollier ever lift one of her perfectly manicured fingers to help her, Delaney "the poor kid" Freeholder? It didn't make sense, it didn't make sense at all. --Don't think about that, you're supposed to be calming down.- It felt odd, being the only one in her head. She could almost go as far as to say that she missed it.  
  
The doctor bustled in, with her mother following. He was a fussy-looking man; he didn't merely walk from one place to another. He bustled, he shuffled, he did everything but walk. Taking out several instruments, he poked and prodded at her.  
  
"Awake, are you? What's your name? What do you remember?"  
  
"Delaney Freeholder. A car."  
  
"That's it? How old are you?"  
  
"Yep. Thirteen years old. Wait." She frowned and tried to concentrate. "That's not right. Fourteen. I'm fourteen years old." Her mother looked worried, but the doctor just waved it away impatiently.  
  
"Typical reaction, in a case like yours. As long as her basic knowledge of self isn't gone, we can rule out amnesia. There's a good chance that your short term memory will be affected for a few weeks after this, but you should be just fine after that. You might even gain the memory of the accident back. Now. How do you feel?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"This isn't a courtesy. I need to know how you feel."  
  
"Um...hoarse. And I have a headache."  
  
"Of course you have a headache. You had a concussion, that's to be expected. Your torso, where the car hit you, any pain?"  
  
"No." He poked her near her kidneys.  
  
"Now?" She gave a small jerk.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Sit up."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"You can't?"  
  
"I just said that." Her mother tapped her lightly on the head.  
  
"Don't mouth off to the doctor, he's just doing his job. Now, can you or can you not sit up?"  
  
"I can't." The doctor nodded.  
  
"Then you're coming along perfectly. You'll have to stay here for another week, maybe more, depends how you heal." A sudden question occured to her.  
  
"How long have I been here?" She was dreading the answer; she was positive she had been with Rosellyn for almost a year.  
  
"Only two months. Quite good, for an accident of this magnitude. Impressive that you pulled through at all. I had predicted you would be in a vegetative state for a little over six months." Two months? Only two months? How did that work out? Her headache was starting to worsen. This was all too complicated for her.  
  
A/N: If this is complicated: Delaney got hit by a car. Was transported into Rosellyn's body. Rose dies. Della woke up, in the hospital, out of the coma. Fwee. 


	44. Or Was It?

*Disclaimer* Usual rules apply, but I'll add more: I do not claim ownership of Nintendo, Borders, Gameboy, CNN, the Weather Channel, or Zelda. Thank you.  
  
A/N: I usually hate to poll the studio audience, but I need to know if a sequel would work for this story. I'm thinking it might not. Read on!  
  
Chapter 45- ...Or Was It?  
  
After some more poking and prodding, checking her temperature and listening to her heartbeat, the doctor shuffled out, bent over his clipboard, scribbling with a pen. Another pen was stuck behind his ear, apparently forgotten. Her mother began smoothing her hair, playing with the pillows, generally trying to make her as comfortable as possible. She thought about Rose, with her mother dead and father gone. She reached over and carefully gave her mother a hug.  
  
"I love you, mom." Her mother sounded surprised.  
  
"Why, I love you too, sweetie. What...what was that for?"  
  
"I don't tell you enough. And sometimes people don't know until it's too late. So I thought I'd tell you." Her mother released her, and returned to tucking her in and elevating her head, so she could look around the room better. She wasn't really interested in the room, though.  
  
"What's that?" she asked, making disjointed gestures at a large stack of papers on a table.  
  
"Oh, well, part of that is your school work, and the other part is medical bills." Her mother's face become troubled at that.  
  
"Are they bad? I thought I had student insurance!"  
  
"You do, dear...but you shouldn't be worked up, don't worry about it. It'll be fine."  
  
"Mom, the insurance is $25,000! Shouldn't that be enough? Mom?"  
  
"Honey, the doctor said not to get worked up. Everything will turn out just fine." Delaney sank back into her bed. What a wonderful thing to wake up to; if she hadn't been standing in the middle of the street, her mother wouldn't be facing a medical bill that probably cost more than she made in a year. What were they going to do? She wished for her dream world. There weren't insurance bills there.  
  
By the second day, Delaney thought she could go crazy. At least while she was dead to the world, she had her dream to keep her occupied. But now, she had nothing to do except lie in bed and try to remember the dream that slipped away elusively, like a wisp of smoke on the wind, or flip through the three channels on the T.V. in her room: the Weather Channel, CNN, and Spanish soap operas. Hardly sustaining activity.  
  
"Mom, can you bring my Nintendo? And Zelda? I really need something to do." Her mother nudged the sizeable stack of papers with her elbow.  
  
"How about your homework?" Delaney rolled her eyes.  
  
"There's my idea of a good time. Please, mom? I'm going nuts. If all I have to do is school work, you're going to be negotiating medical bills from the psycho ward. Besides, it's been two months! I need to get my feel for the game back again!" Her mother pursed her lips and frowned.  
  
"Why is this video game more important than your school work?"  
  
"Mom! I've been doing my school work! I'm almost halfway done with world geography! Don't I deserve a break? Please?" Her mother appeared to give in. But only to an extent.  
  
"I'm not hauling those machines to and from the hospital. But I'll see if I can get you some books or games. How's that sound?"  
  
"Gameboy?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Board games. You're too technology-dependent." She would have argued that point, but her mother wouldn't possibly believe that she had spent almost a year in a society that, if she could scrape this correctly from the dim recesses of her mind, didn't even have pens.  
  
Her mother returned, two and a half hours later, with a huge stack of books. Delaney's eyes widened.  
  
"You won't bring my Nintendo, yet you drag the entire library into here?" Red-faced with exertion, her mother plopped them on the bedside table, which sagged a little bit, it seemed to Delaney.  
  
"Don't you get smart with me," her mother huffed, "Reading is much better for you than staring at the T.V. screen all day. Now. I went down to Borders and asked the clerk there what he would recommend for you if you like that Zelda game so much. He gave me these. You're going to read every single one, do you hear me? For what I spent, you better like them, too." Delaney sighed. Her mother just did not understand the nuances and satifaction a game like Zelda possessed. It was a shame that they didn't even own a lap-top.  
  
She reached for the first book and examined the cover. Then she read the back. Mildly interesting. She placed it aside. She gave all the other books the same treatment until she got to the last, and thickest, volume. This one impressed her. It was red, and leather-bound, with colorful blue, green, and gold foil inlay. Her mother tapped the cover.  
  
"The clerk I asked? This was the first one he recommended. Beautiful, isn't it? Why don't you read this one?" Delaney shrugged. It had no summary on the back, like the other paper-back ones she received had.  
  
"What's it about?"  
  
"I don't know, dear. You know I'm not much of a fantasy person, myself. But he highly recommended it. Highly. You should start with this one." She shrugged again and examined the spine. There, in gold foil (no doubt meant to emulate the gold leaf of an illuminated book), was the title, in elegant script: The Lord of the Rings. She opened to the first page of the prologue: Concerning Hobbits. With those two words, her imagination was ensnared. She continued reading, well into the night.  
  
It was on the fourth day that she hit the chapter: The Council of Elrond. All through this book, something had been gnawing at her. But when she read that, it grew stronger. There was something about this book. Or rather, this trilogy. Her heartbeat quickened, inexplicably, and she read voraciously. This was an important chapter.  
  
Her mother wasn't here. She wouldn't be here until after dinner. There was nothing to stop her from reading until the mystery was settled once and for all, no one to tell her that maybe she should do her homework. Homework paled in comparison to this book, and the secrets it contained.  
  
She stopped dead, and reread the sentence. Reread it several times. And once again, to make sure: -There was also a strange Elf clad in green and brown, Legolas, a messenger from his father, Thranduil, King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood.-  
  
Her heart thudded, her pulse echoing in her ears. Legolas...Legolas...and it all came crashing back to her in an instant.  
  
A/N: There. Not bad, eh? The next few chapters will be wrapping the story up: how she deals with medical bills and her newly remembered other life, going back to school, etc. It should only be three chapters or so. I'm almost done! This is so cool! 


	45. The Dream, Part 1

A/N: Wow, I am so sorry it took me this long, but my computer broke down and I nearly lost the file to my story completely…eek.  Don't kill me.  Read on!

Chapter 46—The Dream, Part 1

            Not possible. She could not possibly have gone back to the world of a _book_. It defied all natural law. It was just a coma dream. That would be logical. But…this fellow, J.R.R. Tolkien, he was dead, according to the foreword. Dead long before Delaney herself had been born. It was impossible, and she had certainly never read his work before this. She began to feel dizzy, lightheaded. What could this mean?

_So then…was it all true?  Where is Middle Earth?  Is Legolas real?  Was Rosellyn real?  The book didn't mention me…of course it didn't mention me, she's dead!  Wait.  Her.  The book didn't mention _her_._

            _Who am I?  Delaney Freeholder?  Or Rosellyn Stillwater?_  She was Delaney.  This was Delaney's body.  She tried calling to Rose. –Rose? Are you there?- There was no response.  Rosellyn was dead, if she ever existed.  But she had to exist, the world was written right here, in front of her.  And Aragorn!  He was a Ranger, just like Benvenue was!  And parts of it took place in the house Elrond and Arwen, didn't Benvenue mention seeing them in his travels?

            _Della…you're going crazy_.

            "Have you finished this book already?" asked her mother, surprised, when she dropped in with dinner.  Della glanced at the lovely leather-bound book, watching the cheap lights of the hospital shine on the stamped golden letters.

            "Well, you know, find something you're interested in, and it just sort of reads itself."

            "I'm glad you liked it.  Isn't it better than your Gameboy?"

            "It's…interesting, certainly."

            "And how are you coming on your homework?"

            "Fine.  How're you coming on the insurance papers?" Wrong question to ask.  Her mother slumped down and began to pick at her sandwich.  "That bad, huh?  Sorry I asked."

            "Oh, we'll make it work somehow.  Did you know your school is setting up a fund to help you?"

            "I highly doubt they could find enough people to want me alive."

            "Della, I don't know why you're so cynical.  I'll have you know that they've already raised almost a hundred dollars!"

            "Mom, that's the equivalent of every other student donating a penny.  These people are loaded.  If they wanted to contribute, it would be a hundred dollars per person, not for the entire school.  It's what happens for all the other donations, anyway.  The firefighters got almost twenty thousand dollars when we raised money for them."

            "You should be grateful for what's given to you, Della, I thought I raised you better than that!" Della decided to ignore that.

            "When do I get to go home?" Her mother pursed her lips and frowned, but let the issue slide.

            "When the doctor says," she answered brusquely. Then she wrapped up the rest of her sandwich. "Well, I'll leave you with some peace and quiet, so you can finish up your homework."

            "Thanks for dinner," she said, but the door closed on her last words. _Great.__ And now my mom is upset with me.  Fantastic._  Why couldn't she have just stayed with Legolas and Tracie?  Why couldn't she have lived as Rosellyn?  She could have married Legolas, and Tracie would have married Benvenue and had lots of redheaded babies.  The war was _over_, they _won_, why was she thrown in right when the conflict began, and taken away right when it ended?  It didn't seem fair.

            She had a dream about Middle Earth, that night.  She dreamed that she was looking down at Mirkwood…only it wasn't the Mirkwood she had known.  This Mirkwood was dark, pitch dark even at high noon, and the spiders had overrun it.  She felt sad, remembering the lake and the scenic beauty it held for Rosellyn…and then she was gone, racing over fields and mountains and forests, until…

            _Rivendell_.  It must have been.  It looked exactly like the book described it.  But she didn't stay there long, either; instead, she went flying away again before coming to rest, permanently, she felt, in yet another Elven realm.

            _Lothlorién__! _ It was the most beautiful place she had ever hoped to see.  _Galadriel.__  She must be here, somewhere…_but she was in no hurry to find her.  The Golden Wood, it was dubbed, and rightly so.  The sunlight streaming through the canopy lent more to the name, throwing gleaming rays of gold all through the forest.  She remembered the words of Damita, so long ago: _If you ever see Lorién, you'll indeed see why anyone raised there would be eager to get back._  And for once, she understood.  Maybe not enough to abandon a child elsewhere, but she understood a little.  She walked around a bit, reveling in the beauty of the place.  _Am I real_?  She looked down, and saw no body.  She tried to pinch herself, but couldn't.  _No,_ she thought sadly. _I'm just a ghost.  But at least I'm here, back in Middle Earth._

            Soon, she began to see other Elves, most paler than Legolas, but very few were on the ground.  Most were, she saw, in a high-way system in the tall reaches of the huge mallorn trees.  A few moments later, she was up with them, listening to the haunting voices that filled the air.  The melody seemed to carry her, carry her away…

            _"Legolas."_ She stopped.  Who had said that?  _"It sounds familiar…"_  She looked around wildly.  Who was talking?  Who had mentioned Legolas?

            _"Father…that Ranger so long ago, Benvenue, was it he who said that?"_

            _"You're right.  When he brought news of…the war in Mirkwood."_ She found them.  Three Elves, startlingly dark among the backdrop of golden trees and fair-haired Elves.

            _"That was so long ago,"_ said the third.  _"Almost…two thousand years?"_

            _"I've lost trace.  It makes me all the happier that I got you children out of there when I did.  Look what happened to…the people that lived there."_

            _"You mean my sister,"_ said the second Elf, _"and our mother.  You could at least say their names, Father."_ Delaney moved closer.  They all had relatively long hair, but the second Elf was quite obviously female, with the longest hair of the trio, the same hair that Rosellyn had, and pale green eyes.  The other young Elf had hair leaning more to a shade of auburn, he was well-built, with brown eyes just like…his mother.  She marveled.  These were her—Rosellyn's, that is—siblings.  And…she looked to her—Rosellyn's—father.  He was majestic in his twilight years, with hair that looked like it had bleached somewhat in the sun, and fantastic deep green eyes.  Rosellyn's eyes!

            _Kellys__.  Ellywin.  They're still here_, she thought, awe-filled. _But why are they talking about Legolas?_


	46. The Dream, Part 2 OR Kel's Rebellion

Chapter 47—Kel's Rebellion

The three Elves began to walk, and the wraith Della/Rose followed. They passed from tree to tree, obviously with some destination in mind, but as far as she could see, they were merely wandering. No one spoke for a long time, until the second Elf—Kel—broke the silence.

_"What is this Fellowship? Is it the same that started from the house of Elrond, Imaldris?"_ Their father laughed.

_"Could there be another? Galadriel says it is one and the same. They were led here by the border guard yesterday, blindfolded."_

_ "Blindfolded?"_ Ellis sounded surprised. _"Why should they be bound so?__ Is not Aragorn, son of Arathorn, among them?"_

_"The Dunedain?__ He is, and so is this Legolas, son of Mirkwood's King Thranduil. But they are also in the company of a dwarf."_

_ "A dwarf! Well, then. Why should a dwarf accompany them?"_ Their father shrugged.

_"He pledged his support, and Elrond did not see fit to deny them. This Legolas…son of Thranduil…I remember, now."_ Kel had a day-dreamy, whimsical look on her face.

_"As do I.__ He was the young man whose father took over when Awaren was killed in the war. Mother died protecting his son, Syndar, but he died anyway. And…he was the Elf that was in love with Rosellyn."_ Their father had flinched at the mere mention of his wife, but at the sound of Rose's name, he turned away completely.

_"Come. Let us talk of happier things."_ Kel didn't seem happy with that decision.

_"You never so much as mentioned our mother or our sister, all through our childhood. It is high time you should mention them now."_

_ "What do you want me to say?"_ he snapped irritably,_ "Your sister had just been born, and you knew your mother."_

_ "Not nearly well enough,"_ replied Kel crisply. Ellis seemed content to stay out of the feud, for now. _"We were so young. Why didn't you take Rosellyn with us?"_ Della/Rose noticed her father's twitch. So did Kel. _"Can't you even hear her name, never mind say it? Why did you leave Rosellyn behind?"_

_"I thought it best,"_ he said shortly.

_"Having her killed before she was half-grown? I fail to see how that is beneficial."_

_ "That was not my doing, and well you know it! I didn't dream that Awaren, that fool, would use children in his little wars. I didn't put the knife in her myself, and I will not have you addressing me so!"_

_ "You might as well have killed her, and mother, as well!"_

_ "Enough!"_

_ "Look!"_ Ellis suddenly interrupted his father and sister's argument. _"It's…"_

_ "A hobbit,"_ finished their father. _"One of the Fellowship, I presume."_

_ "I've never seen a hobbit before,"_ said Ellis. Rose/Della looked and saw a figure she assumed to be a child, at first. But upon closer examination, she saw that he had a mature figure, that of an adult. _He's probably older than me,_ thought Della. _Maybe twice my age, more, but he's half my height._ She drifted over, following her family. To her amusement, she saw that his feet were bare, and covered with a thick mass of curly hair, much like his head. _What a funny little creature_. The hobbit looked up and saw the Elves coming towards him and stood his ground.

_"You are with the Fellowship?"_ asked her father coolly. The hobbit nodded uncertainly.

_"Aye.__ My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck."_

_ "You are not the Ringbearer, then?"_

_ "Oh, no. That would be one of my kin, Frodo Baggins."_ Her father seemed eager to get the niceties over with.

_"You travel in the company of Legolas of Mirkwood, do you not?"_

_ "Aye."_

_ "What do you think of him?"_ Meriadoc seemed to think about that one.

_"He has proven himself an able fighter, and a true asset to our cause. His skills with the bow have saved us many a time."_

_ "Does he ever mention any other Elves?"_ Meriadoc now looked confused, and was obviously aware he was treading on unstable ground with this question. Della was beginning to think that Rose's father, for all his supposed wisdom, was a bit of a jerk.

_"No, my lord, he does not, though I am not close with him. You would, perhaps, do better to ask Gimli, son of Gloin, or perhaps Aragorn, son of Arathorn. They speak with him far more often than I."_

_ "Thank you, master Brandybuck. Good day to you, and good luck on your quest."_ With that, they walked away, leaving a clearly confused hobbit behind them. After a moment, though, Meriadoc continued on his way, wherever he had been going.

_"I would speak to this Legolas myself,"_ said Ellis. _"If what master Brandybuck says is true, he is by all accounts a fine Elf. And I would speak to him of Rosellyn, as well. That Ranger spoke the truth, then; he knew her far better than I."_

_ "He does not even speak of her," _pointed out her father. _"No ballads of lost love have sprung from his lips concerning her, he does not mention her to his companions. I do not think they were truly in love."_

_ "Some prefer to keep their grief private, father. That is not a crime,"_ replied Kel. _"In fact, I would take it as a sign of respect. I agree with Ellis; I should meet this Legolas of Mirkwood myself. Whether or not you choose to do so is your choice alone. Come, Ellis, let us find him."_ Without another word, she took off, taking her brother by the hand. Her father did not follow.


End file.
